Stranger in the mirror
by Black Goddess
Summary: Begins in Harry's fifth year. Deprived of his best friends in mysterious circumstances, Harry is left in the arms of Draco Malfoy. But are things really what they seem? This contains SLASH! Now finished and with extended scene!
1. How it all began

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me (sigh) This is Ron/Hermione and Harry/ Draco No slash in this part (next time peeps!) Will contain character death.  
  
Stranger in the mirror  
  
Harry looked at his face in the mirror. Gaunt and shadowed, his eyes glowed an eerie shade of green, giving a strange tint to the enormous bruise that shadowed his jaw. He glared at his expression, flicking a strand of crow-black hair out of his eyes. Suddenly he turned away with a snarl of disgust and threw himself down on his bed. He lay, quite still, face down. Only the rise and fall of his chest gave any reason to suspect that there was life in his body. After a pause, his shoulders began to shake.  
  
Hogwarts, Harry's fifth year  
  
"What's up Hermione?" asked Ron tentatively. They were all on the Hogwarts Express, heading back to Hogwarts for the beginning of their fifth year. The three hadn't met up in the holidays this year, and the two boys had lots to say to each other. Hermione however, had been uncharacteristically silent throughout the whole trip. She had answered all their questions about her time in Bulgaria in her characteristic style, and had even responded to their questions with some of her own, but the nearer they got to Hogwarts, the quieter she became, to the point that it was no longer possible for the boys to pretend that they hadn't noticed something was wrong.  
"Nothing" said Hermione, giving them an almost startled look, as if she hadn't expected them to notice anything wrong.  
"You've gone really quiet" Ron explained "and I just wondered if there was something the matter"  
"Just tired, that's all" Hermione said "It's nice of you to ask" she said, giving them a grin that seemed to be crumbling around the edges, "but really, I'm fine"  
"If you say so Herm" said Ron. Harry quickly changed the subject and they talked about Quidditch for the remaining distance to Hogwarts, but Ron and Harry exchanged glances full of puzzlement when Hermione was distracted.  
Hermione seemed to get more lively once they had arrived at Hogwarts, but over the next few weeks it began to be clear that Hermione had something on her mind. She was definitely distracted, even to the point of stopping answering questions in class, and once Professor McGonagall had to repeat a question she had asked her. Hermione was spending all of her time in the library - something that in itself was not uncommon, but the fact that she seemed not to want either of them to even be there while she was, and the fact that she was not always where she had said she would be reinforced their idea that there was a problem. But the strangest thing of all was the way the teachers acted towards Hermione. Even Professor Snape seemed to making some sort of effort to curb his tongue where Hermione was concerned, though his behaviour to Harry and Ron hadn't changed.  
Harry mentioned his fears to Ron one evening in the dormitory.  
"Ron?" he said nervously "Have you noticed how oddly Hermione's behaving?"  
Ron appeared from behind the drapes of his bed and went to sit at the window. His face was folded in an expression of worry.  
"It's really odd isn't it? She's thinner than she used to be, and she's so distracted all the time." He stared out over the darkened grounds, his eyes staring towards the lake.  
"What can be wrong with her?" he burst out "There is something, we both know it, but what can it be?"  
"I've no idea. The teachers know though, whatever it is"  
"What?" gasped Ron, his face in the moonlight shocked and surprised. "It must be really bad then, whatever it is, for the teachers to know"  
"Snape was nearly nice to her the other day. McGonagall keeps giving her this odd, sort of sad look and Madame Pomfrey seems to look at her all the time"  
"She must be ill then." Ron said logically "She must have had flu or something, some sort of horrible Bulgarian disease, and she's not over it yet. That's all it'll be Harry, she's just tired and not feeling so well. You know she always retreats to the library when she doesn't feel well. She'll get better soon, no problem" Ron's voice was cheerful, but Harry could see in his friends eyes that he didn't really believe this, that he knew there must be something seriously wrong and was just trying to convince himself otherwise. Harry said all the things that he knew Ron wanted to hear, knowing that Ron could see in his eyes that he didn't believe the words as they came out of his mouth. Both boys finished their feeble efforts at deceiving themselves and sat in silence for a while.   
"We'd better go to bed" said Harry eventually, loath to break the silence "The others'll think we're mad if they come and catch us sitting in the dark."  
Ron nodded, but made no effort to move. Harry stood up quietly and went to bed, leaving Ron silhouetted against the window.  
He fell instantly into a log-like sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, but it was not the kind of sleep that is refreshing. When Harry awoke the next morning, his jaw was clenched and his head hurt. He had also overslept, and had to hurry down to breakfast. Ron had already finished his and had gone off to the library to do some last minute Transfiguration homework, so Harry sat down next to Hermione. She looked terrible, he noticed. Her eyes had huge bags under them and she looked pale and drawn. Her hand trembled as she moved a spoonful of cereal to her mouth, and Harry suddenly realised how thin she had become.  
"What's going on Hermione?" he asked. He was slightly surprised at himself - he had meant to lead up to his question gently, after inquiring how she was, whether she had slept well, all the sort of pleasantries that people go throughout of politeness or fear when building up to something important.  
"You've been quiet and distant all term. Don't deny it Herm. Ron and I both know there's something wrong. Can't you tell us about it?"  
"I'm dying" said Hermione calmly and matter-of-factly, lifting another spoonful of cereal to her mouth with hands that trembled. Harry sat there, stunned.  
"What?" he whispered, too stunned to even begin processing the information.  
"I'm dying" Hermione repeated, her voice quavering slightly now. "I've got cancer, it's too far gone to treat with any success and I'm going to die, probably in the next two years"  
"Are you sure?" asked Harry, his voice trembling. "Is there nothing that can be done - no spells or anything?"  
"No" said Hermione quietly "I've looked everywhere, considered everything. There's no hope Harry" she said. "This year at Hogwarts will be my last"  
Harry stared at her, his face completely white.  
"Why didn't you say something?" he asked hoarsely. "Were you going to die before you let us know you were ill?"  
"I didn't want to ruin your year. The cancer's slow progressing - I should be functioning almost normally this year. I didn't want you to fuss over me Harry - I've accepted this now and I didn't want you to be always asking me if I felt OK. I wanted one last year of normality, as much as I could have it"  
"We're your best friends - didn't we deserve to be told what was going on, rather than having to guess?"  
"I didn't want you to be worrying about me all the time! I just wanted to carry on as normal - pretend it isn't happening." Hermione admitted.  
"I'll have to tell Ron now" she went on practically. "Now you know, it's not fair for him not to. Let me tell him myself though Harry" she said, looking at him suddenly for the first time during the whole conversation. "This isn't the kind of news you should hear on the grapevine. I'll tell him tonight, after lessons"  
Harry stood up, ignoring the food on his plate. The thought of eating anything made him feel ill.  
"OK" he said softly. He then turned and walked out of the Dining Hall. He headed straight for the dormitory, and his invisibility cloak. He quickly pulled it on, and sat quietly on the bed, waiting until Gryffindor was silent. Then he made his way down to the lake. Removing his invisibility cloak, he sat gazing across the lake, tears rolling down his face.  
Harry sat there all morning, completely unaware of anything around him, contemplating the dreadful news he had heard that morning. Hermione dying, no hope of curing her... The conversation flowed round his head until the words almost became meaningless. Memories of Hermione flowed through his mind, Hermione laughing, smiling, glaring at him and Ron, exchanging exasperated looks with Ginny when they were being particularly dense about something. Hermione scolding them for breaking rules, brewing Polyjuice Potion secretly in the toilets - thousands of memories collected over four years. But interspersed between all his memories was Hermione's voice saying calmly "I'm dying"  
So absorbed was he in his memories that he failed to notice the figure approaching him until they sat down next to him.  
"I don't know why I'm here" drawled a familiar voice.  
"I don't know how I knew you'd be here, or why I even cared, but I thought you could do with..."  
"Go away Malfoy" said Harry flatly, making no attempt to hide the fact that he was crying.  
"I thought you might like someone to talk to, someone who's not involved in whatever your problem is and who knows how to keep secrets."  
"Why would I ever talk to you? We've been enemies for years."  
"Because whatever this problem is, it's big. Too big for you to handle alone, and there is nobody else."  
"There are plenty of people! Why do you think I'd talk to you rather than Ron or Her.. Her.." Harry stumbled over the name and gulped.  
"The problem's to do with Hermione, right? And whatever it is, Weasley doesn't know. Right again? Oh, I'm a good guesser" he said proudly, as Harry's face told him everything he needed to know.   
"Now, you're the great Harry Potter, boy wonder. You aren't likely to be cutting class and crying in the woods because she dumped you for Krum, so it's something bad. If she was pregnant - well, that'd shock you, and everyone else for that matter, but you wouldn't be like this, even if it was your baby. Snape didn't even send anyone to look for you, despite the fact he hates you! He looked at Hermione, then started the lesson"  
Malfoy suddenly paused. There was a different tone in his voice when he started speaking again.  
"I don't like the way this is going Potter" he said. "In fact, I might leave now before I guess things I'd rather stay out of"  
"She's dying" said Harry softly. "And you'd better mean what you said about secrets because she doesn't want anyone to know. She wouldn't have told me if I hadn't guessed. She's telling Ron tonight. She wants to pretend it's not happening - just live her life as normal until she's too ill to carry on"  
"Ouch" said Draco with feeling. "What's up with her?"  
"Cancer. She says it's too far gone to be worth treating the Muggle way, and she can't find any spell to treat it or cure it. She's got about two years"  
"I'm sorry"  
"No you're not!" snarled Harry. "You hate Hermione! You always call her a Mudblood - you said you wished the Basilisk had killed her! How dare you say you're sorry now!"  
Malfoy flinched, but said quietly.  
"Did you never say something you didn't mean? She wasn't dead, she was going to live. Things aren't always easy for me Harry, whatever it looks like. I am sorry about Hermione. She's clever and brave - she doesn't deserve this. No one does."  
Then Harry began to sob. Burying his head in his arms he cried as if his heart would break. Draco watched him for a minute, but as Harry's sobs grew louder he put his hand on Harry's back between his shoulder blades. He said nothing, just rubbed Harry's back until he had cried himself out.  
Harry was very embarrassed when he had cried himself to exhaustion. He lay there, worn out and wondering what to say. Draco said nothing, just continued to rub his back. After a while though, he said  
"We might be wanting to make a move. Lessons end for lunch soon, and you might want to clean yourself up a bit before facing your friends again." Harry raised his head from his knees and looked at Draco.  
"On second thoughts, we'll just go to the medical wing. You look like you could use some sleep and some sort of calming potion. Come on"  
He stood up and reached out a hand to help Harry up. Harry looked at it dully for a moment before taking it and allowing Malfoy to help him to his feet.  
"Thanks" he said tearfully.  
"I will be expecting you to return the favour." Malfoy said wryly, but with a trace of affection in his voice. "I never do something for nothing Potter. Oh, and your secret's safe with me. I won't talk about any of this." Harry sniffled, and Draco began to prod him in the direction of the castle.  
"Come on, we're running out of time."  
  
***   
  
Harry slept for the rest of the day. When he headed for the Gryffindor common room, everyone was at dinner. He sat in the chair closest to the fire and stared into its depths, waiting for Ron and Hermione to come in. As he stared into the flames, he felt sleep calling him. When he checked his watch and saw he had almost half an hour before the others got back he decided he might as well doze there. He allowed the heat of the fire and the flickering flames to lull him to sleep.  
Perhaps because of all the sleeping he'd been doing that day, Harry's sleep was restless. Once he heard a voice say "You have served me well." He started awake and looked around, seeing no-one he relaxed back into his chair and back into a restless doze.  
He was walking through a barren landscape, struggling along a narrow path covered with bushes, boulders and thorns. Up ahead he could see a fork in the path. One route was even worse than the path he was on, and one seemed slightly easier. Harry started along the easy path. At first it seemed OK, but then Harry began to sense things watching him from the shadows - big things, with glowing eyes, like Sirius when he was in dog form. Thinking of Sirius made him think he could hear his voice, saying  
"Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny"  
"I'm not Luke!" Harry said in surprise. "Where are you?"  
"Where I always was." whispered Sirius. He began to bark and suddenly Harry could hear howling. He looked around, trying to hear where the howling was coming from.  
"It's too late" said Hermione sadly. "Who knew what you would be?"  
The howling was so loud Harry could barely hear her. "Don't go!" he yelled, but his words were drowned by the howling as the werewolf jumped straight for his throat. There was a loud bang.... and Harry jumped awake. The bang he had heard was the portrait hole swinging open. He sat up quickly, trying to look as if he hadn't been asleep. Ron and Hermione were the first through. Hermione was laughing about something, and her laughter cut Harry to the bone. When Ron saw Harry, he immediately headed towards him.  
"Where've you been?"  
"I felt strange at breakfast, and I went to Madame Pomfrey" said Harry, perfectly truthfully.   
"Are you OK now?" Hermione asked, giving him a look.  
"Better" he said.   
"Tell you what then" said Hermione cheerfully. "Shall we go for a quick walk? Get you some fresh air? It's still quite light out"  
"Good plan!" said Harry. "What about you Ron?"  
"Sure" said Ron. "Anything to put off that Divination homework!"  
The three clambered out through the portrait hole and headed for the lake.   
"What was wrong with you then?" asked Ron when they were about half way to the lake. "It's not like you to be ill"  
"I upset him" said Hermione apologetically.   
"What did you do?" asked Ron in surprise.  
"I told him what's been wrong with me since the beginning of term."  
Ron looked at her sharply.  
"Go on" he said, tension evident in his voice.  
"I've got cancer. It's gone too far for any treatment to be successful, so I've decided not to have any, only pain relief. I want to enjoy the rest of my life, not spend it fighting a losing battle."  
"How long?" asked Ron tightly. "How long have you got left?"  
"About two years. I'll be leaving Hogwarts at the end of this year, to spend some time with my parents."  
"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US?" yelled Ron. "I thought we were your best friends, but you don't even think your imminent death is something we should be warned about? Do you really think so little of us?"  
"I wanted things to be the same! Now you know that it's almost the end, things'll be different. You'll treat me differently - if I so much as frown you'll fuss all over me, asking if I feel OK, if there's anything you can do. I don't want that! I want a nice, normal year, unspoilt by my cancer. I'm not dead yet, and I'd rather you didn't cry for me until I'm gone"  
"You can't just say that! You're dying - we'll never see you again! How can you think we wouldn't care enough about you to keep you here?"  
"I didn't say you didn't care! Life has risks Ron." yelled Hermione "You could get run over by a car on your way home for Christmas! You could be dead before I am! It's not that I wanted to cheat you, I just wanted to keep things the same."  
"They'll never be the same." said Ron. He had stopped shouting and was breathing in short, sharp gasps.  
"Do you think I don't know that?" asked Hermione quietly. "I did everything I could think of - researched my type of cancer, asked all the doctors for their real opinions, worked out all the statistics. I found out that treating it now would only give me another year at best, and would give me great pain and discomfort. I decided that it wasn't worth the extra year. I couldn't have come back you see, and I wanted to. I even looked for a magical cure, but there's nothing anyone can do. So I want to stay here, keep things as normal as I can for as long as I can and then die quietly."  
Ron's lip quivered. "Hermione" he said haltingly "What'll we do without you?" Tears began to flow down his face, and Hermione reached out and put her arms round him, her own body shaking with sobs. He clung to her and cried. Hermione beckoned to Harry over Ron's shoulder. He came closer and she put one of her arms round him, pulling him close.  
Harry couldn't cry, but he stood there with his arms round Ron and Hermione, giving them strength, and drawing from them the strength he would need to face the times ahead.  
  
***   
  
The following months were strange for Harry. Hermione seemed to have decided that life was for living, and although she still worked hard in class, she was much less focused on her work than she had been. She and Ron had begun to go out, and there were times when he definitely felt like a spare part. He'd heard the saying "Three's a crowd" but had never thought it would apply to them.  
The morning in the woods with Draco Malfoy stuck in his mind. Malfoy, true to his word, had never mentioned any of it again, but Harry couldn't help wondering how long that would last. Neither Ron nor Hermione had noticed that Malfoy was ignoring them rather than insulting them these days, but Harry had. Sometimes in Potions after Harry had received a particularly brutal tongue-lashing from Snape he would catch Draco's eye. Neither boy would smile or acknowledge the other, but there was an understanding between them. Harry found this comforting, though he couldn't say why.  
One day after Christmas while they were making an Ageing Potion, Malfoy walked past the desk where Harry was crushing up his beetle wings. Leaning over, he said sarcastically.  
"Those look like dust already Potter. Did Weasley give them to you? Probably not rich enough to afford real ingredients!"  
Ron snarled, and Hermione said caustically  
"Some people are given talent, wit and intelligence. What a shame that you missed out on all three Malfoy. Still, every family has a black sheep. Maybe your father'll have another child who isn't such a disappointment to him"  
"How dare you insult my family you Mudblood scum!" spat Malfoy. He dived for his wand, only to find his wand arm gripped firmly by Harry, who gave him a look.  
"Just go Malfoy" said Harry quietly. Malfoy glared at them all angrily. His fists were clenched. He looked like he was about to say something, but choked it back and stalked off.  
Harry waited until the other two were busy stirring the cauldron to unfold the note Malfoy had dropped into his lap.  
"You owe me a favour Potter. Now I'm calling it in. 7 o'clock, same place again."  
Harry slid the note into his pocket. At the end of the lesson when they were sitting at their desks noting down the homework, Harry managed to catch Draco's eye and nodded. Draco nodded back.  
  
When Harry arrived, Draco was sitting with his head propped on his knees, staring over the lake. He turned to look at Harry when he heard him approaching, and gave him a sort of smile.  
"What'd you tell the other two?" he inquired, watching Harry as he sat down.  
"They've gone for some 'alone time'. They probably won't even know I've been away." Harry couldn't quite stop the bitter edge creeping into his voice, though he tried very hard.  
"Bad luck. Three suddenly became a crowd."  
"Yeah"  
There was a small pause. Then Malfoy said thoughtfully  
"What's it like having friends?"  
Harry turned to look at him, trying to see if Draco was joking or whether he really meant the question. Draco met his eyes, looking uncomfortable but he seemed as if he was telling the truth. "I'm serious" he said quietly. "I don't think I've ever really had a friend, and I want to know what it's like."  
"What about Crabbe and Goyle?" said Harry, playing for time while he tried to think of an answer.  
"They're sidekicks, henchmen, whatever. Friends are supposed to be your equal, and only in an alternate reality could Crabbe and Goyle ever be considered my equals. All brawn and no brain is a saying designed for them."  
"A difficult comment to argue with" Harry agreed. He frowned, trying to think of his answer.  
"I don't know" he said quietly. "I know what it's like not to have friends, and I can see the differences between then and now, but it's difficult to say how it's different. It just is."   
"Not really the most helpful description" said Malfoy, sounding slightly disappointed.  
"It's having someone to sit with in lessons and talk to at break. I know Ron and Hermione will help me if I'm in trouble and stick up for me if I'm getting picked on. I can go to them with most of my problems, and they'll help me without telling anyone, and I'd do the same for them. They make me laugh" said Harry. He had come to the end of his explaining power, and looked at Malfoy earnestly. "Do you know what I mean?"  
"I think so"  
"Aren't you lonely without friends?" asked Harry tentatively.  
"I'm human, aren't I?" say Malfoy, sounding surprised. "Of course I'm lonely! Most of the time I can push it to one side, but sometimes I can't." Harry nodded, remembering his life before Hogwarts. There was a pause while both boys stared out over the lake.  
"Would you say I'm your friend?" asked Malfoy suddenly.  
"I don't think so" said Harry apologetically.  
"Why not? You've told me a secret, which I haven't told and I've told you something that I hope you won't pass on, so we must trust each other somehow. That list seemed to be mostly about trust." Malfoy's tone didn't seem accusatory or angry, just curious, but there was a funny undertone to it.  
"Yes" agreed Harry, trying to work out what he could hear in Malfoy's voice, "but you've never made me laugh, I wouldn't dare sit with you or talk to you and neither of us would go out of our way to help the other."  
"Is that what you really think?" said Draco in a measured tone.  
"When you set this up, you didn't just come to me and say 'Harry can I talk to you', you picked a fight with my best friend as an excuse to give me a private note. This first thing you asked me was what excuse I'd made to the others so I could come and meet you. That seems to say to me that you don't dare talk to me either, and if we're afraid to talk to each other then how can we be friends?"  
"Do you think we could be?" asked Malfoy. Harry gaped at him, wondering if he'd heard him correctly. Draco Malfoy, asking to be his friend? A hurt, embarrassed expression crossed Malfoy's face.  
"It doesn't matter" he said abruptly. "Sorry to have wasted your precious time Potter." He started to stand up.  
"Wait!" said Harry quickly. "I'm sorry, I just wasn't sure that I'd heard you properly. I mean, it's not the sort of thing you usually say to me, is it?"  
Malfoy looked more hopeful, and settled himself back into his initial position.  
"I do think we could be" said Harry softly. "I'll be your friend if you'll be mine."  
"Thank you" said Malfoy. "That means a lot to me Harry"  
Harry grinned in embarrassment.  
"Smiling already" observed Draco.  
"True enough" said Harry.   
There was a small pause, which Harry broke by asking which Quidditch team Draco supported. The conversation went on from their, both boys discussing Quidditch with enthusiasm until Draco suddenly looked round.  
"Gone dark, hasn't it? What's the time?"  
Harry glanced at his watch.  
"We're going to get into trouble!" he exclaimed. "We should be in the Common rooms by now!"  
Malfoy checked his own watch and gave a strangled exclamation. "Come on!"  
Both boys ran back to the school as fast as they could. When they reached the entrance hall, Harry panted out a quick  
"See you tomorrow" before hurrying off up the stairs to the Gryffindor Common room.  
  
From then on, Harry met up with Draco regularly. He, Ron and Hermione had established a routine so that Hermione and Ron could have some 'alone time', and Harry used the time to meet Draco. He didn't tell them what he did in that time, and they didn't ask. He didn't know what, if anything Draco had told Crabbe and Goyle, just that they seemed to know nothing. Then again, thought Harry, both of them were so stupid they probably didn't even notice Draco's absence. Both boys had been wary of each other at first, but Harry had slowly come to rely on Draco for support. He found his sarcastic sense of humour a blessing, and the fact that he always had time to listen to Harry's complaints about Ron, Hermione and life in general. In return, Harry listened back and found out lots of things about Draco that he had never known, including one bombshell that knocked Harry for six.  
The boys had been in the library, where they had taken to meeting in a quiet corner, collaborating on their Potions homework and generally chatting. Harry had been telling Draco a story about the Weasley twins, which both boys had found very funny, and had gone on to talk about family. Harry had given a description of the Dursleys and their attitude towards magic.  
"Honestly, they hate people of magic blood, like your family hates people with Muggle blood. They see all wizards as freaks, and when they took me in they vowed to stamp all my magic out of me" Harry explained. "I had to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs and was generally despised and ignored."  
"What about your cousin? He's nearly the same age as us isn't he? Shouldn't it have been like having a brother?"  
"Better no brother at all than Dudley! He beat me up all the time. I'd say he was more intelligent than Goyle, but only just"  
"I had a brother once" said Draco thoughtfully. "He was two years older than me and I thought the world of him"  
"What was he like?" asked Harry curiously.  
"Strong, right from babyhood, lively and intelligent. Father always said I was a terrible disappointing baby, but I never heard him say that about Salazar. Everyone was really upset when he died, but I think what upset Father most was when he realised that I was his heir."  
"How did he die?" asked Harry quietly.   
"He fell into the lake when he was seven and I was five. Both of us could swim, but he banged his head on a stone when he fell in. He was too heavy for me to pull out, and he drowned before help could arrive." said Draco emotionlessly.  
"I'm really sorry" said Harry. He hoped Draco could hear how much he meant that, the words themselves seemed almost meaningless in the context of what Draco was telling him.  
"Yes" said Draco, talking almost as if he hadn't heard Harry "one minute he was on the bank with me, feeding the ducks on crusts of bread from his hand, and the next he was face down in the water and not moving. I was a puny little thing, and he was two years older than I was and a big lad. There was nothing I could do."  
"It must have been awful"  
"It certainly wasn't pleasant. Still, there's no point dwelling on it. It happened over ten years ago now after all - I can hardly remember him"  
"Still" said Draco after a while "Granger's crack about my father maybe having a less disappointing child certainly stung."  
"Ouch!" said Harry, remembering the comment vividly all of a sudden. Draco had been about to leave when Hermione had said something and he had gone mental.  
"She wouldn't have said it if she had known" he assured Draco. "Hermione's not like that"  
"Are you sure?" said Draco, giving him a probing look.  
"Of course I'm sure!" answered Harry in surprise. "Hermione's my friend - I've known her for nearly five years - and I'm sure she wouldn't say anything like that if she had any idea that there were circumstances like that"  
Draco shrugged and changed the subject, but the conversation hung over the rest of the evening like a black cloud.  
  
After that, Harry nearly started talking to Draco in lessons, but not quite. One day in late March however, Harry arrived late to a Potions lesson to find Hermione sitting in his usual seat next to Ron. Harry gave her a slightly hurt look. He had only gone to Madame Pomfrey for a cold remedy - Hermione must've known he'd turn up. He ignored Hermione's apologetic glance and quickly looked for somewhere else to sit. Seeing the space next to Draco, he walked quickly over and sat down, ignoring the shocked gasps from the rest of the class. Snape raised an eyebrow, but obviously couldn't think of anything to say. He started teaching as always, but kept looking at Harry with a peculiar expression on his face.  
"You've put the cat among the pigeons" Draco murmured when everyone was busy concocting an invisibility potion.  
"I know!" grinned Harry, carefully cutting up his roots. "Still, they'll get over it, and if there's trouble we can say I only sat here 'cos Hermione took my seat."  
"Doesn't stand up as well as it might, you probably would've taken hers before." "But we're friends now" said Harry determinedly, but looking at Draco apprehensively "and I'll sit with you if I want to"  
"True" said Draco. There was nothing unusual about his tone, words or expression, but Harry thought he saw something odd flicker in Draco's eyes before the older boy looked back at the potion he was stirring.  
"Those roots ready yet?" asked Draco cheerfully.   
"Almost!" said Harry, wondering if he'd imagined it. Draco made some lame joke and Harry laughed as he tipped in the roots. The two kept up an easy chatter as they made the potion, and Harry was so involved in what he was doing that he failed to notice Ron looking at him and Malfoy, a jealous expression on his face. Hermione too was sending him concerned, almost warning, glances but Harry was completely unaware of anyone paying him special attention. Perhaps due to the amount of energy he was putting into glaring at Harry, Ron managed to mess up the potion that he and Hermione were making, dissolving Hermione's cauldron in the process. Harry and Draco's potion was perfect and Snape made a sarcastic remark to the effect of saying that it was Ron's influence on Harry that had caused years of abysmal potions work on Harry's part, and that if he could destroy even Hermione's work then Ron's abilities must be even less than Neville's. The Slytherins snickered appreciatively. Harry pointed stayed silent and shot Ron a sympathetic glance. To Harry's surprise, Ron glared at him. After the lesson, Harry waited for the other two as always. Hermione chattered as easily as always, but Ron seemed to be ignoring him. Harry groaned to himself, and hoped that they would be in a more private place when the inevitable row came.  
  
The row took place in their dormitory that evening. Harry had gone up there to collect his quill, and suddenly became award of Hermione and Ron following him. Hermione shut the door and the three looked at each other.  
"Explain" said Ron in a voice as cold as the Arctic.  
"We've been getting on better lately, so when Hermione took my seat, I sat next to him. It really isn't a big deal Ron" said Harry as calmly as he could. "You're still my best friend. My talking to Draco doesn't mean anything else had to change"  
"And how long ago did you start this treachery?" spat Ron, his face beginning to go red. Hermione laid a warning hand on his arm.  
"The day Hermione told us she was dying" responded Harry unflinchingly. "He made me feel better, and promised not to tell. Later on, he called the favour in, and that's where we are now"  
"Why didn't you tell us?"  
"There's nothing to tell!" said Harry, beginning to get angry with Ron's tone.  
"When you two go off for your alone time, I go to the library and talk to Draco. It doesn't change things with us"  
"You talk to that slime four days a week!" yelled Ron. "This is Draco Malfoy - Muggle hater! He's called all three of us some pretty horrible things in the past, and you forget it all because of a few well-chosen words? He's evil, and a You Know Who supporter Harry. How can you speak to him? It makes me sick!"  
"You're talking as if it's a big deal!" yelled Harry, losing his temper in turn. He saw Hermione try to say something, but went on shouting anyway. "It's not! I speak to him in the library when you two are busy - it's not like I'm going to abandon you for him! You're my best friend and you'll always be my best friend, but I'm allowed other friends too!"  
"But not Draco Malfoy! He hates all three of us, and my family! How are you going to cope with that? His family are evil to the core, and they'll tear you apart if they get you near them. You watched his father fawning over You Know Who, and you think that Draco's a good person? Don't be naive."  
"You've never talked to him - you can't possibly know what he thinks about anything." yelled Harry. "I'm sorry you feel so strongly about this, but I still want to be his friend" he added more calmly.  
"Ron, I think you're being irrational" said Hermione softly into the pause. "Harry can talk to Draco if he wants to, but we don't have to. It doesn't change your friendship with Harry"  
"But Harry obviously thinks it does, or he wouldn't have kept it secret"  
"I just didn't want to upset things" said Harry. "I was never planning on sitting with him, or speaking to him in public for that matter. I only sat with him because my seat was taken. I'm sorry to have upset you."  
"You looked so cosy together" said Ron bitterly. "Should've known you'd go off with someone with money!"  
"Ron!" gasped Hermione. "Don't talk such rubbish! Harry's not going off with anyone, and this has nothing to do with money!"  
"For God's sake talk sense!" snapped Harry. "I knew Malfoy had money right from the beginning. If I'd wanted cash, I'd have made friends with him then. I made friends with you because you make me laugh and I trust you. We've shared a lot of things Ron, and nothing can change that. Why won't you believe me?"  
"You kept secrets from me"  
"No one tells everyone everything. It's not possible. There must be things you are keeping from me, whether you know it or not. This really isn't serious."  
"I'm sorry we've been making you feel left out Harry" said Hermione quickly. "We'll spend more time with you in future"  
"Honestly, you don't have to. I don't mind any more - you don't have to make yourselves miserable for me"  
"We won't be miserable" said Ron. "I think that's a good idea Herm. It'll be just like the old days!"  
Hermione pulled at her boyfriend's arm and they began to walk down the stairs, Harry following them a bit behind. As he listened to Ron's voice, he couldn't help thinking that somehow what he'd said and what Ron had heard had been two different things, and he knew that things were going to be difficult from now on.  
  
  



	2. New developements

True to their word, Ron and Hermione did spend more time with Harry, but the atmosphere was strained. As spring came and the earth shook off the grip of winter and burst with life, Hermione took a turn for the worse. The disease which had been almost dormant during the winter months resumed its determined attack on her body and Hermione began to crumble under its assault. Her complexion became paler, almost ghostlike, and she began to complain of pain, to the extent of being unable to attend lessons on days when it was really bad. Harry and Ron were both incredibly worried about her, and Harry couldn't believe that no one else noticed that something was wrong. Hermione was too ill to go off for alone time, so she, Harry and Ron stayed in the Common room, working and messing around. Harry hardly saw Draco, just occasional glances in lessons, and he was surprised to find how much he actually missed the other boy's sarcastic sense of humour and the way he smiled when Harry made a clever comment. Hermione's condition however made the three friends stick more closely together than ever before, and Draco and everyone else was shunted to the sidelines.  
Hermione's condition stabilised in May, but she was very thin now, and her face held a delicate, fragile look as if she might break at any moment. Harry knew that she was in almost constant pain, but Hermione bravely said nothing about it. She and Ron were closer than ever, and Ron seemed to have forgotten his jealousy over Malfoy with the concern over his girlfriend. Certainly, he did not mention anything to do with Malfoy to Harry, or ask Harry what he did when he was left alone. For his part, Harry tried to avoid leaving the Common Room when the others did, and tried to be back before them.  
Draco was slightly cool with Harry when he resumed the meetings, but seemed to understand Harry's preoccupation with Hermione's illness.  
"She looks so young" said Draco thoughtfully one day. "Like a china doll or something - somehow not quite real"  
"She's changing state" said Harry blandly. Draco turned to look at him, pushing his homework aside and leaning towards Harry. The two were sprawled by the lake, in exactly the spot where they had first begun their friendship.  
"What do you believe happens when you die?" he asked curiously.  
"I don't know" said Harry. "I like to think that the dead are free from mortal concerns and can be happy, but I don't quite know how that would work. Hermione seems to be changing state, so maybe she is moving to another level of being - something the living can never obtain." There was a pause for a while as Draco tried to understand this, and Harry tried to think of a different way to explain it. "What do you believe?" he asked.  
"I don't know" said Draco. His voice sounded cold. "It depends on my mood. Sometimes I think that death is peace and the dead are all happy in another plane of existence, waiting for the living to join them. Sometimes I believe in reincarnation and the chance to live again and try for a better life. But sometimes I think" said Draco, his voice becoming colder, empty, "that death is the end. That you get one life and that's it, and when you die you simply cease to be, finished. You come from nothing and return there."  
"I don't like that" said Harry. He could hear fear in his voice, and wondered how Draco's words had affected him so deeply, creating doubt in his idea of an afterlife. "I don't like the thought that this is it, that there is no reason to life, that all there is is the now and the dead are gone for ever."  
"I don't always think that" said Draco, "but sometimes I wonder"  
"Say it's not true." said Harry urgently. "Tell me that when she dies, I will see her again. Tell me!" His voice rose to a sort of strangled scream as he stared at Draco, begging him to take back his words and tell him that everything was going to be OK, tears beginning to pour down his face.  
"It's OK" said Draco. His face was concerned, he had obviously not been expecting his words to have this effect. "I think in all likelihood there is some sort of afterlife - look at the ghosts. Hermione'll be OK, and you'll see her again, don't worry. Come here" he said, moving over to put his arms around Harry.  
"Shh, it's OK" he said softly, holding Harry close and stroking his hair. "I'm sorry I said that, it'll all be OK"  
Harry looked up at him from his position in Draco's arms. His face was tearstained and his breathing was ragged, though he had stopped sobbing. The green eyes shone out more brilliantly from his glasses because they were full of tears. Draco leaned down and kissed him gently.  
Harry froze at the touch of Draco's lips on his. It wasn't just that he was being kissed by a boy, but shock that it was his first kiss and this was not how he'd imagined it. Life with the Dursleys had never given him the opportunity for kissing - the fact that he was rarely allowed to leave the house tended to put a stopper on meeting girls - and his Hogwarts life had been more about his friends and feuds than girlfriends, especially due to Cho's lack of interest. To receive his first kiss from a boy, and one who had been his worst enemy left Harry unsure how to react.   
Draco pulled away quickly, looking horrified.  
"I'm sorry" he said quickly, looking away from Harry and trying to disentangle himself from Harry's robes. "I don't know why I did that - it was a stupid thing to do" He finally got away from Harry and struggled to his feet. "I guess I'd better go."  
"No!" said Harry quickly. "Don't go - it's OK" Draco froze, and looked at him. "I was surprised that's all. We need to talk about this." Draco sat down, a good distance from Harry.  
"Why did you kiss me?" asked Harry after a pause, sounding genuinely curious.  
"I don't know - I just did. You looked so scared, and I just wanted to" said Draco, rather incoherently.  
"I've never been kissed before" said Harry conversationally. "I bet you have though. I didn't think my first kiss would be like that."  
"I've been kissed before" said Draco, wondering what Harry was thinking. "Several times in fact"  
"Would you like to kiss me again?" asked Harry nervously, looking at Draco while trying to look as if he wasn't desperately hoping for the other boy to say yes. Draco looked at if he was trying to work out the right answer, but obviously decided to throw caution to the winds.  
"If you wouldn't mind" he said softly.  
"I don't mind" said Harry, moving closer to Draco. He leaned in towards Draco, and after a pause felt Draco's lips on his in a gentle kiss. Harry kissed back, and Draco gently slid his tongue into Harry's mouth. The two kissed for a little while beneath the trees, bodies pressed against each other, their hands in each others hair. Eventually however, Harry pulled away.  
"What time is it?" he asked. Draco was breathing heavily and his eyes shone with lust. The other boy looked at his watch.  
"Late" he said regretfully. "Not late enough to get into trouble, but later than we usually stay."  
"I'd better go" said Harry softly, hating to leave the other boy.  
"Yeah" said Draco, looking slightly hurt. He rolled over and began to gather his stuff. Harry did the same, then climbed to his feet. He looked at Draco and gave him a quick kiss which the other boy returned eagerly.  
"Are we keeping to the usual arrangement?" said Draco huskily.   
"We'd better" said Harry regretfully. "Don't want to upset Ron"  
"Of course not" said Draco sarcastically, but with an understanding tone in his voice. The two walked back to the castle in silence.  
"Goodnight" said Harry softly as they separated.  
"Goodnight" replied Draco, moving off into the shadows.  
  
As Harry walked slowly up the stairs, his mind was buzzing, trying to make sense of what had just happened. When Draco kissed him it felt so right. He had known that this was how he felt about the other boy and that he had been right when he had told Ron that his relationship with Draco wouldn't affect their own relationship. Even as that thought slid into his mind, doubts began to creep in. He doubted that this was news that Ron would accept with any great enthusiasm, or even neutrality. He decided to keep it from Ron for a while, until things had settled down. After all, Ron never asked. If Ron asked, he would tell him, but if he didn't then he'd wait decided Harry. He paused for a second outside the portrait hole, wondering if everyone would know when they looked at him, wondering if Ron would know. He knew he was being silly, but muttered the password with trepidation anyway. He clambered through nervously and looked around. Hermione and Ron were nowhere to be seen, and he headed across the Common Room with a sense of relief to put his stuff away, saving his Potions book to finish his essay while chatting to Ginny.  
  
The next six weeks passed in a blur for Harry. He sneaked off to meet Draco at every opportunity, but tried to spend as much time with Hermione as possible. He knew it was her last summer at the school, and wanted to see as much of her as possible. Even Harry with his ignorance of medical matters could see she was fading. Even his classmates had begun to realise something was wrong. Hermione's robes hid the extent of her thinness but her pallor was less easily disguised and her repeated absences were impossible to hide. Seamus Finnegan had asked Ron on several occasions if Hermione was OK, and with the end of June approaching, Harry and Ron were both trying to convince Hermione that she should start telling people the truth when they asked her if she was OK. Draco was a great support to Harry, not seeming to mind that all the time they had together was stolen moments and that Harry still hadn't told either of his friends of their relationship. Harry however felt really guilty about it, and knew he should have told his friends a long time ago. Luckily, his friends provided him with the opportunity themselves.  
"When are you going to get a girlfriend?" asked Ron idly. The three friends were stretched out on the lawn overlooking the lake, enjoying the sunshine and each others company. Hermione's face had lost the pinched look it often had, and she was as animated as she had been for a long time.  
"Yes" she agreed. "Next year is Cho's last, so you'll have to get a move on!"  
"No" said Harry cheerfully, his stomach tied in knots. "I don't think I'll be getting a girlfriend any time soon"  
"Why not?" asked Ron. "You don't know what you're missing!" he laughed, shooting a glance at Hermione, who blushed.  
"I've got a boyfriend" said Harry calmly "and I don't think he'd really appreciate my two-timing him." He kept his tone casual, but didn't dare to look at either of them.  
"Who?" asked Hermione interestedly, not sounding at all worried by the fact that Harry was dating someone of the same sex.  
"Draco Malfoy actually" he said, somewhat apologetically. Looking up, he caught Hermione's eye and she grinned.  
"Come on, details!" she said. "How long has this been going on and who made the first move?"  
"We were doing homework by the lake, and talking about things."  
"Like what?" interrupted Hermione eagerly  
"Life after death actually" said Harry guiltily "and anyway, he said something that upset me. He hugged me to make me stop crying, and then just kissed me."   
"And?"  
"Well, he freaked and nearly ran off, but I told him not to and we sort of discussed it and then kissed again. That's practically where we are now."  
"Have you slept with him?" asked Hermione interestedly. Harry blushed deep purple.  
"Hermione!"  
"Well, have you? Come on Harry, you know how far we've gone"  
"No" said Harry. "We don't get a lot of opportunities for very intense stuff."   
All the time, he was glancing at Ron, trying to work out how he was taking this.  
"You aren't too mad at me are you?" he said pleadingly, looking from one to the other hopefully. "I know I should have told you sooner, but I didn't want to upset things between us."  
"Of course not!" said Hermione. "This doesn't change things between us at all Harry, except for the fact that you'll now have to report developments"  
"How long has this been going on?" asked Ron in a strained voice.  
"Since May" said Harry softly, staring at Ron. "About six weeks really. I'm not sure of the exact date."  
"Do you love him?"  
"I don't know."  
"How long have you known you were gay?"  
"I'm not sure if I am. I didn't know what I felt for Malfoy until he kissed me, and I know I don't want to lose him, but I still watch Cho and other girls"  
"This is a lot to take Harry" said Ron quietly. "I've got used to you keeping things from me, but this is quite a big thing to understand." He looked slightly confused, and the hurt look in his eyes made Harry squirm.  
"I'm sorry. Your friendship means a lot to me Ron, you know it does! I don't want to keep things from you, and I don't want this to change our relationship, but I want to keep this going"  
"I know you've got your rights" said Ron, the confused look beginning to be replaced by an expression of concern "and I accept that, but Draco Malfoy? Are you sure you know what you're doing?"  
"What do you mean?" asked Harry uncertainly, but with a flash of irritation.  
"His father would hand you over to You Know Who in a second. Are you sure Draco won't do the same?"  
"Yes" said Harry determinedly. "We're friends, and I know he wouldn't do that to me. Besides, we're in school, and will be for another two years. You Know Who can't get me here, and obviously Draco and I can only see each other here, so I don't think there should be a problem. And two years is a long time. We'll probably have split up before we leave in any case."  
"Even so, I think you should be careful. You're my friend, and I want you to be OK"  
"I know" said Harry, swallowing back the lump in his throat. "I'll be careful"  
There was a pause before Hermione quickly changed the subject, and the easy atmosphere returned quite quickly, leaving Harry with the feeling that his news had gone down quite well, all things considered.  
"Would you mind not mentioning this to anyone?" Harry asked as they got up to go for dinner. "It's not that I'm ashamed" he said, seeing Ron's glance and interpreting it correctly "it's just that we've decided it's easier if not too many people know about us."  
"Course not" said Hermione cheerfully.  
"Wouldn't have told anyway." grunted Ron, smiling at Harry.  
"Thanks" said Harry appreciatively, tucking his arm through Hermione's and escorting her to dinner.  
  
I know this is a short part, but REVIEWS will make me write more soon! I apologise for the time between parts, but I suffer from AS levels, and when I do have a part, my computer won't let me upload it!  
  



	3. A Terrible Shock

Now  
  
When his tears subsided, Harry lay exhausted on the bed. His mind was full of memories, all of which were shadowed with grief. 'When did it all start?' he wondered, thinking back to those dark days of Hermione's illness and the following events. He winced thinking about it, but the memories kept coming.  
  
Then  
  
The end of term approached quickly. Hermione had gradually begun to tell people about what was going to happen, swearing them to secrecy. Harry couldn't imagine Hogwarts without Hermione. As the end of term got closer, he found it harder and harder to stop thinking about what was going to happen. All three of them cried at the end of term feast, and the journey home was a strained occasion, all three of them trying to behave normally but failing miserably. Harry knew that after he left the station with Uncle Vernon he would never see Hermione again. Whenever he thought about it he had to swallow a lump in his throat. Before they got off the train, he got Ginny to take a picture of them, all three with their arms around each other, grinning bravely at the camera. Harry had been taking a lot of pictures that year. They all cried again when they got off the train. Harry knew Hermione would write, but the knowledge didn't make the ache inside him disappear. Draco was carefully keeping out of the way. Harry saw him in the distance as he gave Hermione a final farewell hug, tears streaming down both their faces.  
"I'll never forget you" he promised. "Write to me, and I hope we'll meet again some day"  
"I'm sorry" sobbed Hermione. "You're my best friend Harry, and I know you'll be happy." They clung together for a second, then separated. Harry watched Hermione get into her parents car and close the door before he climbed into Uncle Vernon's car. They drove home in silence.  
  
That summer was one of the worst Harry had spent. Not only was Dudley STILL on his diet (which wasn't really doing him much good, as far as Harry could see), but he had to face the fact that the autumn term, when it finally came, would be a strange and unsettling experience without Hermione. The only good thing about that summer was that he was allowed to let Hedwig out of her cage, and so could send letters to Ron, Sirius and Hermione. He wrote to Hermione about once a week, Ron less. He didn't dare write to Draco, and Draco seemed to feel the same because he didn't write to Harry at all. Sirius was very helpful about Hermione's condition, advising Harry to write to him about everything and not to bottle up his feelings. These letters made Harry feel even worse, as he still hadn't dared to tell Sirius about his relationship with Draco, and how strained things had been between him and Ron at the end of term. Harry missed Draco dreadfully. He was quite surprised by how attached he had become to the cynical blond. Every blond boy he saw in the street reminded him of Draco, and the sense of disappointment he felt when he realised that it wasn't him was sharp. When he went to London with the Weasleys the week before school started again he kept his eyes peeled, but this year Draco had obviously got his school things on another occasion, as Harry saw neither hide nor hair of him. He was staying with the Weasleys as he always did the week before term started, and things between him and Ron seemed to be OK. Ron was quieter than usual, but Harry suspected that he himself was not as talkative as usual either. He was preoccupied with wondering what the year would be like without Hermione, but also wondering whether Draco would have gone off him over the summer. He knew it was silly to worry about it, but Harry couldn't help it. However, it was never easy to brood at the Burrow, especially not with the twins about. Their business was up and running, and they tested some of their more interesting jokes on their family, with interesting results. They were trying to perfect sweets that made your hair change colour, but unfortunately they were not going according to plan. Mrs Weasley put her foot down after they turned Ron's hair hot pink and it resisted everyone's efforts to change it back.  
"I'm not having them go to school looking like hooligans!" she snapped. "Test them on yourselves until they work properly." Luckily, Ron's hair resumed its normal colour the day before they had to catch the train. Hermione had sent them each a good luck letter the day before, sounding cheerful and not at all bothered that they would be going back without her. Harry thought he could see a faint tearstain on the envelope, and he missed her with a hollow feeling of pain. All three had got good OWLS (better than the twins, but only Hermione had equalled Percy's great achievement), and Percy loftily assured them that their results were probably good enough for them to do most things.  
He and Ron managed to secure themselves a compartment. Ginny dragged her trunk in and asked them to look after it before going in search of her own friends. The silence hung heavily between him and Ron after she left. Harry could think of nothing to say, and apparently Ron couldn't think of anything either. All there was to say had already been said, and somehow small talk didn't seem appropriate. Harry kept glancing out into the corridor, hoping to see Draco. After a while, Ron said irritably.  
"Why don't you just go and look for him? You're driving me mad!"  
"Sorry" said Harry contritely. He had in fact been considering that option, but as yet hadn't got the nerve. He did his best to sit still, fixing his gaze on the corridor, but he twitched every time someone walked past.  
"Just go" said Ron impatiently. "You know you'll go eventually, so you might as well go now and get it over with"  
"What'll I say?"  
"You're going to the toilet or something. No one's checking up on you Harry. Just go away and let me have some peace."  
"OK" said Harry, partly relieved at leaving the strained atmosphere and partly terrified at the idea of looking for Draco.  
"He's probably looking for you anyway" he heard Ron mutter as he stepped out of the compartment.  
"Good luck!" he said more audibly. Harry pulled the door closed and took a deep breath before heading towards the front of the train where the Slytherins tended to gather, glancing into each compartment as he went. He had walked through about three carriages when he finally saw him. He was heading down the train some distance away, glancing into each compartment he passed. Harry's heart skipped a beat as the other boy caught sight of him. Harry kept his hand down by his side, but made a gesture he hoped Draco could see, pointing at the toilet next to him. The other boy nodded discreetly and Harry went calmly into the cramped toilet, pushing back against the wall so that he wouldn't be squashed when Draco opened the door, an event which occurred a minute later. Draco pushed the door closed and locked it. Harry moved forward awkwardly in the small space (which had been bad enough with one person in it, but was terrible with two) and hugged him tightly, a hug that Draco returned eagerly.  
"How was your summer?" asked Harry softly, relaxing the hug so he could look at his boyfriend while keeping his arms around him.  
"The same as usual" said Draco dryly. He leaned down and kissed Harry deeply. Harry returned the kiss with all the intensity of the past few months, his hands threading through Draco's hair, almost trying to bury himself in Draco's scent, the feeling of his embrace and the sensation of his lips. Draco gripped him round the waist, sliding his hands downwards onto Harry's rear and pulling him closer. Harry felt a bolt of lust shoot through him as their kissing became more urgent. All his worries vanished and all he could think about was Draco's body pressed close to his. Draco's hands slid around the front and began unfastening Harry's jeans. Harry stifled a moan as Draco dropped to his knees in front of him before being overwhelmed by the sensations the other boy produced.   
After returning the favour, both boys hastily refastened their jeans.  
"I'll see you in the usual place after tea tomorrow" said Draco softly before kissing Harry gently goodbye. He opened the door and went out. Harry locked it behind him and stared at himself in the mirror. He looked no different from usual - his hair was still a mess, his eyes still covered by his glasses. The only change was in how Harry felt. He opened the door and headed to the compartment where he had left Ron.  
"You found him then?" said Ron sourly, looking round as Harry entered the compartment.  
"Yes" said Harry softly. There was a pause before Ron said.  
"We'd better get changed. We'll be there soon." Harry nodded dumbly and headed for his trunk.  
Ginny arrived with the same purpose in mind ten minutes later.  
"You haven't just been sitting here all this time have you?" Ron flushed slightly and Harry looked away.  
"I know it's horrible, but you should have gone and talked to someone - distracted yourselves instead of brooding here"  
"Just leave it Ginny." said Harry quietly, turning a rather interesting shade of purple despite his best efforts. Ron looked like he was about to explode. Ginny gave them both a look and got her robes out of her trunk. She disappeared down the corridor and both boys went back to sitting in silence. Five minutes later, Dean Thomas appeared.  
"So this is where you two are! I've been looking for you everywhere." He began to chatter happily, asking them questions about their holidays, and the rest of the journey passed easily. The Feast was almost as cheerful as always, much to Harry's surprise. He could feel a space where Hermione should have been, and knew Ron could feel it too, but it didn't seem as bad as he had been expecting. He could also make eye contact with Draco while he was eating, something that always gave him a secret thrill.  
The thing that was strangest about Hermione's absence were the lessons, something which Harry had been expecting. Now Hermione was not there to volunteer the correct answer, lessons were much more silent, and seemed to mainly consist of everyone just sitting there blankly until the teacher picked someone to answer. Harry found this incredibly distressing, he wasn't sure why. The work was also getting harder, and most people found that without Hermione to explain things to them homework was a thing that required considerably more effort. Hermione wrote to them religiously, and Harry wrote back. Now he was back at school, what Hermione seemed to want to know most was his relationship with Malfoy. Harry was happy to oblige. Ron pretended that Harry wasn't seeing him, and turned a blind eye to his absences, though he covered for Harry if necessary. Harry was grateful for this, but he hated not being able to talk about his relationship to anyone. He was an open person by nature, and the secrecy, while necessary, was annoying. Hermione's letters therefore, provided him with the chance to talk about it, and being as he wasn't sure what else to say to Hermione without rubbing things in, made writing to her a lot easier. Hermione had told him, with a great deal of amusement, that she would burn his letters before she died. Harry had laughed when he read it, but the sentence had left a mark. He knew he would not burn hers.  
Life at Hogwarts quickly adapted to Hermione's absence however, a fact that Ron especially found hard to understand.  
"They were friends with her for five years!" he burst out one day as he and Harry were walking down to Hagrids hut. "How can they not ask how she is?"  
"They do ask" said Harry thoughtfully. "It's just that they're not sure what to say."  
"How is Hermione?" suggested Ron sarcastically.  
"They know how she is, in essence anyway" Harry pointed out, the unspoken 'She's dying' ringing loud and clear in the small pause. "and they expect us to tell them if there's any change."  
"Why should we? If they can't even be bothered to ask, then why should we tell?"  
"Like you said, they've been friends with her for five years."  
"I don't like it." said Ron. He seemed about to say something else, but shook his head with irritation, and they completed the walk in silence.  
Hermione died on Easter Day. Her goodbye letter to Harry told him she had burned his letters. Harry cried, but somehow it felt as if Hermione had been dead for a long time already. He hadn't seen her for nine months, and he had become accustomed to a routine without her. He felt guilty for feeling like this, but both Sirius and Draco assured him that it was perfectly natural, and probably healthy. Harry suspected that Ron felt a bit like this too, but never dared to ask. He and Ron had drifted slowly further apart that year, and Ron's grief over Hermione's death pushed them further apart than ever. Sometimes things seemed to be perfectly normal, and it was almost as if they were just waiting for Hermione to come back from the library, but other times it was as if they were strangers. He couldn't seem to reach Ron any more - his grief was almost palpable, a dark shadow filling the air around him, pushing Harry away no matter what he tried to do.  
By contrast however, his relationship with Draco had intensified. Harry knew without a shadow of doubt that he was deeply in love with the other boy, and that Draco returned that love. They had established a routine, of midnight meetings in deserted classrooms and secret clinches beside the lake. That Easter, Draco had stayed at school over the holidays and he had been a great comfort to Harry in the week before term started. Ron withdrew into himself, and even Seamus Finnegan (who was renowned for getting secrets out of people) couldn't get a word out of him. Ron was gradually cutting himself off from the world, burying himself in his schoolwork and his black, melancholic thoughts. Both Harry and Ginny were very worried about him, but neither could get through to him. However, he seemed to be getting more cheerful towards the end of the summer term, and it was a real surprise to everyone when he hung himself from the banisters of the main stairs the day before term ended for the summer. He didn't leave a note, but everyone knew why he had done it.  
  
What will Harry do now? How has Ginny been affected by her brother's death? Answers/suggestions in your REVIEW! Sorry things have been taking so long, but I have REALLY IMPORTANT exams, and I actually have to do some work! Thanks very much to everyone who has reviewed this so far - I really appreciate feedback, even flames (I've never had one!)  
  



	4. Ginny's Theory

If Harry thought the summer before was bad, this summer was beyond terrible. He couldn't believe that Ron could do something like that, couldn't believe that at this time two years ago he had two best friends who had been through everything with him, and now he had none. The Dursleys seemed to have adopted that policy of pretending Harry wasn't there, and Harry found this made the pain worse. Sirius was no closer to being proven innocent, and so could not be of much help to Harry, even though he did come from wherever he was working against Voldemort to attend Ron's funeral and supported Harry as much as he could through letters.  
Draco was Harry's biggest comfort. He and Harry wrote to each other all the time. Harry didn't sign his letters and only used initials when talking about people in case the letters were found by Draco's family, even though Draco swore that no one who didn't know where they were could find them. By now he had no secrets from Draco, and Harry couldn't imagine a life without him.  
This time, Harry frankly dreaded going back to school.  
"I can't do it" he confided to Draco in a letter. "I can't go back and be on my own."  
"You'll be fine" Draco wrote back. "There are all the other Gryffindors, and you can rely on me."  
When Uncle Vernon left him at the station to catch the train for his seventh year at Hogwarts Harry stared around, thinking how things had changed since the last time Uncle Vernon had dropped him at the station, six years ago. Then he had never met Ron and Hermione, never known he had a godfather, never dreamed that the snooty boy he had met and disliked in Madame Malkin's would come to be the most important person in his world.  
Drawing on all his depths of courage, Harry went onto the platform and pushed his trolley up to the prefects carriage. He lugged his trunk into it, and arranged Hedwig's cage carefully on the luggage rack, chatting happily to Padma Patil, who was already in there.  
The journey passed much more quickly than Harry had expected, and in a strange way was much less painful than the year before. He and Draco had actually arranged a time to meet up, which made the whole trip considerably more bearable, as did being in the prefects carriage which was full of people Harry knew and liked. However, when he walked into the Gryffindor common room after the feast and looked at the armchairs where the three of them had always sat, Harry felt such a sense of loss he thought he would never be complete again. Walking up the stairs to his dormitory and looking at Ron's empty bed brought back memories of the night after his death, the feeling of shock and confusion that had filled the room. He saw Neville glance at the bed uneasily and knew he was thinking the same.  
"Shall we go downstairs?" he asked Harry gently. "Probably best to keep out of here for a while." Harry nodded quietly and the two headed back to the Common room. Neville kept up an easy flow of chatter as they sat by the fire, waiting for Seamus and Dean to finish saying goodnight to their respective girlfriends and be ready for bed. Neville had changed a lot since first year mused Harry. He had grown considerably and had slimmed down somewhat. His aura of nervous fear had lessened, and he now seemed more confident, but overall he projected kindness. Harry vaguely wondered how he did it.  
"Can I sit with you?" a voice asked. Harry looked up and saw Ginny.  
"Course you can" said Harry, blushing slightly.   
"How was your summer?" asked Neville. "Apart from, you know, I mean.." he floundered slightly.  
"Strange. The twins have moved out, so there were fewer explosions." she answered, carefully avoiding the subject of Ron.   
"I'm sorry I couldn't be more help at the funeral." said Harry, abandoning all attempts at tact.  
"My uncle wouldn't let me stay any longer than was strictly necessary."  
"It's OK." said Ginny softly. "I know what the Dursleys are like."  
"Yes." agreed Neville solemnly, though Harry suspected he didn't know what the Dursleys were like at all and was simply agreeing to delay the awkward pause which now fell.  
The pause was broken by the portrait hole swinging open and Dean climbing in.  
"Seamus not here yet?" he asked, almost as if they had made an agreement not to go to bed until they were all there. "I hope he hurries up - I'm shattered!" He flopped down into an armchair and smoothed his ruffled hair.  
"Hi Ginny" he said. "You OK?"  
"Just tired" said Ginny. "Sleep's been a bit hard to come by recently."  
"Yeah, well" said Dean. "Not really surprising." He smothered a yawn.   
"You take care of yourself though" he said cheerfully. "If you still can't sleep here, you could go to Madame Pomfrey. She might give you sleeping pills or something." Ginny and Neville looked at him in confusion.  
"It's something Muggles take to help them sleep" Harry explained. Suddenly all he wanted was for this day to be over. As if on cue, Seamus tumbled through the portrait hole and the group stood up.  
"Sorry to keep you waiting" grinned Seamus, giving them a lecherous wink. "Got carried away!" Everyone rolled their eyes, and the boys began to move off in the direction of their dormitory.  
"Night Ginny!" they chorused.  
"Night boys" she said cheerfully. "Night Harry."  
"Goodnight Ginny" he said gently. "Sleep well"  
"I'll do my best" she promised. Harry watched her walk up the stairs leading to the girls dormitories, remembering all the times he had seen Hermione walk up them. He looked round the empty common room with a shudder and hurried upstairs after the others.  
  
  
For the first month Harry felt detached. He began to develop a fear of being alone, especially in places that held special memories of his two friends. Neville seemed to understand this, and was a great help to Harry, refusing to let him dwell on things and forcing him to concentrate on his school work (largely by asking him to explain it). Draco was also a great distraction. He and Harry sat together in Potions all the time now, and it made Harry feel much more secure, even though Professor Snape still gave him funny looks. They had had to stop meeting by the lake though, because all Harry could think about when he was there was the day Hermione had told him she was dying and his world had started falling apart at the seams.   
"Harry?" said Draco one day when they were curled up together under a tree in the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. "Have you heard from Sirius lately?"  
"Yes" said Harry cheerfully, thinking of the letter he had received that morning.   
"How's he doing?" asked Draco lazily, stretching slightly and rolling into a patch of sunlight with almost catlike grace. He spent as much time in the sun as he possibly could, and it was a mystery to Harry how he remained so pale.  
"Fine, I think. He says the weather's terrible, but what else can you expect at this time of year? He thinks he'll be finished soon and promises to visit me here before he heads off on his next trip."  
"Where'll that be?"   
"He's not sure, but he thinks in the south somewhere, possibly Berkshire."  
"What's so great about Berkshire? I mean, that's a really terrible place name and just sounds boring - possibly with lots of dogs."  
"The Reading festival?" suggested Harry, laughing at Draco's withering look mixed with confusion. "Seriously, I have no idea. Still, we'll probably find out when he gets there."  
"True." said Draco. "Rather him than me!" He leaned over and kissed Harry swiftly before jumping up.  
"We're going to be late if we don't go" he said, holding out his hand to help Harry up. Harry took it and squeezed it gratefully before the two boys headed off in different directions.   
As Harry headed back to the Common Room, his mind full of happy Draco thoughts, he was stopped by Ginny.  
"Harry?" she said tentatively, almost as if she thought he might chase her away.  
"Hi Ginny!" he said cheerfully, giving the younger girl a grin. He hadn't really seen much of Ginny that term, something he thought ruefully was probably his fault. "What's up?"  
"Can I talk to you privately?" she said nervously. Harry froze.  
"Um, I'm in a bit of a hurry" he said hastily. "Perhaps later?" he offered, feeling guilty about dismissing her like that, but he really didn't want to have to explain Draco to anyone, and he knew if Ginny asked him out he would have to tell her why he was saying no.  
"Please. This is important Harry" she said, giving him what Harry felt was a reproachful look. Harry felt a huge rush of guilt. How could he let himself be so full of himself as to think she wanted to ask him out? He had been her brother's best friend, she probably just wanted to talk about Ron.  
"I've been trying to talk to you for ages, but this is the first time I've seen you alone." she went on.  
"I'm sorry" said Harry, checking his watch and seeing with alarm that he really was going to be late if he didn't hurry. Ginny had her schoolbag slung over her shoulder, but his was still in his dormitory. "Look Gin, I've got to go now, but I'll talk to you this evening, OK?"  
"Sure" she said, giving him a smile that didn't quite hide the darkness inside her. "See you later Harry."  
  
  
Harry raced off to get his books and then headed for History of Magic. As he took notes he wondered idly what Ginny could want to talk to him about. Maybe she did want to ask him out, or ask his advice about something. He frowned at his work.  
"She just wants to talk about Ron" he told himself. "Don't flatter yourself by thinking anything different."  
Still, the puzzle of what Ginny wanted to talk to him about distracted Harry all afternoon, earning him some puzzled looks from the rest of the class who had grown used to a Harry who answered questions and found his sudden silence disorienting.  
  
  
When Harry got back to the Common Room after tea, he saw Ginny curled up in an armchair in front of the fire, reading a book.  
"Hi" he said cheerfully, sprawling into the chair next to her.  
"Hi Harry!" she said "Do you want to go for a walk? It's still quite light."  
"OK then" he said, alarm bells starting to ring at the idea of going off alone with her. Ginny smiled at him, closing her book and slipping it into the pocket of her robes before unfurling herself from the chair.  
"After you" she said laughingly. Harry smiled at her before clambering out of the portrait hole. They chatted easily as they headed for the Entrance Hall. Ginny had come out of her shell in the last few years and had revealed a lively wit and sense of humour. They fell silent as they reached the Entrance Hall however, walking past the spot where Ron had died.  
"I don't believe he did it!" burst out Ginny "I know Ron, and I can't believe he'd ever do something like that."  
"He and Hermione were really close. Maybe the strain of living without her got too much." said Harry. He felt rather startled, and somewhat out of his depth. Of all the things Ginny could have said, this wasn't one he'd been expecting.  
"No, my brother wouldn't do something like that. He had us, he'd been getting more cheerful over the last few weeks, so why then?"  
Harry pushed open the main door and held it for Ginny, playing for time as he considered how to answer. Neither he nor Ginny noticed the black-robed figure watching them from the shadows, so preoccupied were they with their discussion.  
"I read somewhere that people who are going to kill themselves seem to get better just before their deaths" said Harry tentatively, knowing that Ginny would not appreciate this piece of information. "Something to do with having made a decision or the prospect of peace or something." Ginny remained silent, so Harry continued.  
"Ron and I had been drifting apart for a while, we weren't as close as we were before" said Harry. "Maybe he didn't feel he could rely on me. I couldn't seem to reach him at all."  
"You were his best friend!" said Ginny angrily. "Do you really think he would have killed himself?"  
"Grief makes people do funny things" Harry said helplessly. "And if he thought I'd let him down, then I don't know. Normally I'd say no, but with things as they were.." Harry trailed off.   
"But he wouldn't kill himself!" said Ginny furiously.  
"So what are you suggesting then?" asked Harry, more sharply than he'd intended. It was getting quite dark now, and Harry was beginning to feel uneasy.  
"I...." Ginny floundered.  
"Think about what you are saying" he said as gently as he could. "If Ron didn't kill himself, somebody else killed him. And why would anyone want to kill Ron?"  
"I don't know!" said Ginny frustratedly, her eyes filling with tears. "But it's all I can think of. These are dangerous times Harry, maybe someone killed him just because he was a good person. He was getting better, looking forward to the holidays. Why would he kill himself? I just can't believe it" She began to cry. "Ron wouldn't kill himself" she sobbed. "He wouldn't, he wouldn't, he wouldn't"  
Harry gingerly put an arm around her.  
"I'm sorry" he said softly. Ginny buried her face in his chest and sobbed. Harry patted her back reassuringly, tears trickling down his own face.  
When they had both calmed down they walked back to the Common Room in companionable silence.   
"See you in the morning." said Ginny softly before climbing through the portrait hole and heading for the girls dormitories.   
"Goodnight" said Harry. He decided to go to bed himself, but sleep was a long time in coming. Ginny had planted the seeds of doubt in Harry's mind. Would Ron really kill himself? But who could want to kill Ron? No matter what Ginny said, 'He was a good person' wasn't really a great motive for killing someone. 'And this is Hogwarts' Harry reminded himself sternly. "No one would dare commit a murder here, right under Dumbledore's nose! Ginny's just being hysterical' he told himself firmly. 'She just doesn't want to accept that her brother killed himself, and is clutching at straws - anything rather than believe the truth." Despite these comforting thoughts, Harry's sleep, when it finally arrived, was restless and full of disturbing dreams.  
  
  
Harry overslept the next morning. Staggering into the Great Hall when most people had finished breakfast and gone to prepare for the day ahead he was surprised to see Professor McGonagall standing by the Gryffindor table talking to Dean.  
"Ah, there you are Harry!" she said, sounding relieved. "We have some things to discuss. Get some toast and come with me" Still too sleepy to argue, Harry picked up some toast and spread some butter and jam on it before following Professor McGonagall. She led him to a deserted classroom and said cheerfully.  
"Now, I know you've been wondering which of you veteran Quidditch players would be chosen as Captain of the Gryffindor team this year. Professor Dumbledore and I have discussed this, and we would like to offer the position to you"  
Harry, who had been expecting bad news, gaped at her.  
"But why me?" he asked stupidly.  
"You have been playing in the Quidditch team for longer than any of the other players, you work well with people and we think that you could construct a winning Quidditch team without allowing Quidditch to interfere with your studies. Obviously, you are allowed to refuse if you don't feel you would be up to it, but I think you'll cope well"  
"Thank you" said Harry. He was beginning to plan it all already, running over the players in Gryffindor, trying to decide on who should fill the vacant places, planning strategies for the upcoming matches.  
"I'd be happy to take on the job!" he grinned.   
"Well that's settled then!" said McGonagall cheerfully. "I'll put a notice up in the Gryffindor Common Room announcing your selection, but after that everything's up to you. Feel free to come to me if you have any problems though" she said cheerfully. "Even if they aren't Quidditch related" she said, just slightly too casually. Harry nodded.  
"Thank you, I will" he said. He couldn't wait to tell Draco.  
Harry spent the rest of the day in a Quidditch-filled dream, planning strategies, team practices, team line-up with substitutes and just generally thinking happy Quidditch thoughts. The first chance he got, he wrote Draco a quick note, telling him to meet him at the usual place.  
"Guess what?" he said excitedly when the other boy appeared.  
"What?" said Draco obligingly, coming closer for his kiss. Harry kissed him quickly and said excitedly  
"I'm Captain of the Quidditch team!"  
"What?" said Draco. He sounded less than thrilled, but Harry was too excited to notice.  
"Can you believe it?" he babbled. "I'm in charge of the Quidditch team for Gryffindor! I have to select the team line-up and everything! It's going to be great!"  
"Yeah" said Draco sourly.  
"What's wrong?" asked Harry, noticing his boyfriend's sour mood.  
"When are you going to see me?" asked Draco softly. "You'll be so busy with Quidditch you won't have time for me"  
"Don't be silly" laughed Harry reassuringly, pulling the older boy towards him. "You know I love you. Quidditch has never come between us before, and it won't now."  
"Are you sure?" Draco whispered softly, his eyes locked with Harry's.  
"Yes" said Harry firmly and kissed him. Draco melted into the embrace and the subject of Quidditch was forgotten.  
Draco was nearly right though. As the first Quidditch match drew closer, Harry grew ever more involved with the Gryffindor team, trying out new players, training the older ones to greater heights and generally getting wrapped up in his duties. The amount of work they were also expected to do was huge, and Harry simply had less time for Draco than he wanted. He also had no time for Ginny. Sometimes he would see her in the Common Room, but he rarely had time to speak to her, find out how she was doing. He trusted that she would tell him if she was having problems (uneasily pushing away the thought that Ron hadn't) and tried to get through the weeks until the Quidditch match was over.  
When Gryffindor won however, he and Draco celebrated in their usual manner and life began to move onto a less demanding footing. Two days after Gryffindor's great defeat of Hufflepuff, Harry found Ginny in the Common Room.  
"Coming for a stroll?" he asked cheerfully. "It's a lovely evening for December!"  
"OK then. If I get a cold, it's all your fault! Meet me here in ten minutes with warmer clothes on?"  
"Fine" said Harry, going off to get some warmer clothes himself.  
They chattered their way down to the Entrance Hall again, and headed out into the cold.  
"Why don't we go and see Hagrid?" suggested Ginny.  
"Good plan" said Harry and they began to make their way down to Hagrid's hut.   
"So, how've you been then?" asked Harry eventually, giving up on trying to bring the conversation around to that point naturally.  
"OK thanks. Why?"  
"I just haven't seen much of you lately" said Harry. "I mean, I know I've been busy, but I'd still like to talk to you sometimes."  
"Nice try" laughed Ginny. "What you meant was, do I still believe Ron didn't kill himself. And the answer is yes. I agree with you in a way. I mean, it's basically ridiculous. Ron must have killed himself. But something just feels wrong to me. I don't know what or why, but I'm keeping my eyes open for anyone acting oddly." Harry wasn't sure in the half-light, but he thought Ginny shot him a probing look.  
"And what will you do if you find someone acting oddly?"  
"Follow them and try to find out what's going on." said Ginny as they arrived at Hagrid's hut. She knocked on the door. Harry felt a sudden chill sweep over him, a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature outside. Ginny would follow anyone acting oddly. Was she used to his strange, unexplained absences or had she noticed he wasn't always where he had said he would be?   
"Hello you two!" boomed Hagrid cheerfully. "What brings you two down here?"  
"We've just come for a chat. Though we'd see how you were getting on" said Ginny cheerfully.  
"Lovely to see yeh. Come on in" said Hagrid. The two headed inside.  
"Haven't seen much of you lately Harry" said Hagrid cheerfully, filling the kettle with water and putting it on the stove.  
"I've been a bit busy" said Harry apologetically.   
"Don't you apologise lad" said Hagrid. "You know your schoolwork is the most important thing. So long as you're happy, I'm happy."  
"I'm happy" said Harry. "Quidditch Captain!" he reminded Hagrid. "How could I not be happy?"  
"You know full well that being Quidditch Captain doesn't guarantee you happiness." said Hagrid calmly. The kettle boiled and Hagrid bustled around preparing them big mugs of tea.  
Harry talked to Hagrid easily, discussing Sirius and the war against Voldemort mostly. Ginny joined in readily enough, but Harry got the impression that she was mostly watching him.  
"Look at the time! You two'll get in trouble" said Hagrid after a while. Harry looked at his watch and was surprised to discover that two hours had passed.  
"It's been great talking to you" he said cheerfully, getting to his feet and helping Ginny up. "I'll try and come here more often"  
"You do that" said Hagrid. "Always a pleasure talking to yeh, yeh know that. And you Ginny" he added. "Though I know you'll keep coming" he said smiling. When he pulled the door to behind them and they started walking back to the castle there was a small pause before either of them said anything.  
"Harry?" said Ginny curiously.  
"Yes?"  
"Last time we talked, you said Ron might have thought you'd let him down. Why might he have thought that?"  
Harry felt as if he'd suddenly been doused with cold water, the good mood brought on by talking to Hagrid erased as if it had never been.  
"Well, you know" he said uncertainly. "Not being able to share his grief properly, that sort of thing"  
"Ron would understand that." said Ginny certainly. "He'd have been more upset if you could. What are you not telling me?"  
"Don't I have a right to some secrets?" Harry asked as mildly as he could. He was suddenly full of anger. Something in Ginny's tone grated on his nerves. "What happened or didn't happen is between me and Ron"  
"You're deliberately withholding information that could help me discover the truth about my brother's death and you think that's OK?"  
"This has nothing to do with your brother's death" said Harry through gritted teeth. "It's my business, and mine alone, so keep your nose out!"  
"How can I know that unless you tell me what's going on?" asked Ginny angrily, tears beginning to pour down her face.  
"And I'm telling you" said Harry angrily. "My secret has nothing to do with your brother's death, and was hardly even your brother's business, never mind yours! Now stop being so nosy. Ron is dead and that's the end of it."  
Harry regretted that as soon as he'd said it. Ginny slapped him across the face, then turned and ran, sobbing loudly. Harry put his hand to his cheek in shock, staring after Ginny. He was horrified by what he'd just said. He began to cry himself as he made his way to the Owlery. He wrote a note for Draco  
"Meet me in the usual place at midnight. H." He attached it to Hedwig and sent her to Draco's dormitory, before heading to his own. He didn't bother to undress, just pulled the bedcurtains around him and tried to do some of the schoolwork he'd neglected to see Hagrid. When half past eleven came, Harry pulled his Invisibility cloak around himself and slid through his bedcurtains, careful to keep his bed hidden. The curtains were drawn around all the other beds so Harry walked quietly across the dormitory and out of the door, heading quickly for the Forest. Draco was already there, and Harry shed the Cloak as he walked up, tears already beginning to trickle down his face. Draco looked at him, then held out his arms. Harry buried his face in Draco's chest and began to sob out the evening's events. Draco made soothing noises and stroked his hair. However, Draco's expression did not match his tone. He looked strange, his face twisted slightly in jealousy, with a hint of something else. He continued to make soothing noises however, and Harry calmed down gradually.  
"Thanks" he said looking up at Draco, his face full of love.  
"No problem" said Draco, leaning down to kiss him. Harry deepened the kiss hungrily, pushing himself into Draco, who kissed back deeply, moving himself into a better position. Harry pushed Draco back onto the ground, kissing him desperately as he slid his hand beneath Draco's robes. Draco pulled the Invisibility Cloak over them, as much for warmth as for privacy before pulling Harry's robes up, groaning softly as Harry caressed him.  
When they lay together, exhausted, both starting to feel the pangs of cold, Harry said sleepily  
"I can't wait 'til I get my own place and we can stay together all night."  
Draco nodded dreamily, shivering slightly.  
"We'd best go. It's nearly three in the morning, and besides, I'm freezing!"  
Harry groaned, but pulled his robes straight anyway. They both dressed quickly and walked back to the castle under the Invisibility Cloak, a process delayed by the fact that they had to keep stopping to kiss. Harry walked Draco back to the Slytherin Common Room and saw him safely inside before heading to Gryffindor. He climbed through the portrait hole, glanced around quickly and seeing no one, slid out from under the Invisibility Cloak. He realised his mistake as soon as he heard a gasp.  
"Harry?" said Ginny's voice. "Where have you been? It's three in the morning!" Harry quickly stuffed the Invisibility Cloak under his robes. He didn't know whether she had seen it, or whether she thought she had failed to notice him because it was dark.  
"I had some things to think about" he said, wondering whether there were any stains on his robes. 'There could be. After all, it was cold so we didn't actually take them off' He winced at the thought and prayed that it was dark enough for Ginny not to notice any strange marks.  
"Look" he said quickly, hoping he could deflect her attack. "I'm really sorry about what I said before. It was totally uncalled for and I was well out of order"  
Ginny nodded, moving out of the chair where she had been sitting. Harry realised it had a side view of the portrait hole, so she might not have seen the Invisibility cloak after all, just caught his movement out of the corner of her eye.  
"It wasn't fair of me to ask" she said softly. "I just want to know why he did it, that's all"  
Harry nodded, knowing exactly what she meant.  
"We should get some sleep" he said. "It's late."  
"I can't sleep" said Ginny softly, looking at him. Harry could see something in her eyes he was afraid to name.  
"Maybe you'll be able to now I've apologised" said Harry, beginning to move gradually towards the stairs leading to the boys dormitory. Ginny looked almost disappointed, but nodded.  
"Sleep well" she said quietly, turning away.  
"You too" said Harry, scuttling with relief up the stairs to his dormitory. He undressed quickly in the privacy of his bedcurtains and slid into bed, falling asleep quickly.   
Harry felt dreadful the next day, completely shattered and guilty for not telling Ginny the truth about his relationship with Draco. He staggered down to breakfast, on time but feeling like he was still asleep. To his irritation Ginny looked fine, but he was soothed by the fact that Draco looked slightly tired. Harry passed the day in a half-asleep, haze of guilt. Luckily, it was so near the end of term that no one really cared. Draco was going home for Christmas as he always did, but Harry suddenly remembered that Ginny was staying. He reminded himself to ask Draco for advice on how to avoid her. She made him feel guilty and uneasy, not feelings that Harry enjoyed.  
He met up with Draco the night before term ended. They didn't talk much, just made love in an empty classroom.  
"Have a good Christmas" said Draco before slipping off back to his dormitory. On the last night of term, rules were always slightly relaxed, as everyone was out saying goodbye to their partners for the Christmas holidays. It was dark in the Gryffindor Common Room when Harry climbed back in. Somehow he wasn't surprised to see Ginny sitting in a chair facing the portrait hole.  
"It's not nice to spy on people you know" he said resignedly. He headed across the Common Room towards his dormitory.  
"Aren't you going to tell me who she is?" asked Ginny, her voice barely audible.  
"No" said Harry quietly and went up the stairs.  
  
  
Well! Does Ginny's theory have any truth to it? How will she react to the knowledge that Harry is not available? Will she find out who Harry is involved with? What will happen next? REVIEW! 


	5. Leaving Hogwarts

Ginny looked tired the next morning. She avoided Harry's eyes, something that was hard to do now that most of the school had gone home for the holidays, leaving only a handful of people at the Gryffindor tables. Harry looked at her guiltily out of the corner of his eye. He knew that he needed to talk to her. This was, after all, the first Christmas since her brother had died and she needed him to help her get through it, not make it harder. He couldn't decide whether or not to tell her about Draco, and this puzzle occupied his thoughts throughout breakfast. Neville had also stayed behind, and he gave Harry several quizzical looks but did not press him to talk, something for which Harry was grateful.  
When Ginny got up to leave the dining room, Harry stood up quickly, murmured  
"See you later" to Neville and hurried after her.  
"Ginny!" he called. Ginny started walking more quickly. "Ginny, please! Wait, I need to talk to you" Ginny spun around suddenly.  
"Why?" she asked. "Are you talking to me just to make yourself feel better? Some sort of noble gesture from the great Harry Potter to the little poor girl? Do you see yourself as my knight in shining armour? Does playing with my feelings make you happy?"  
"No!" said Harry. "Ginny, I never meant to play with your feelings, I swear. You're my friend, and I value your friendship. I really didn't mean you to think that we could be more than just friends. I should have said something, not let you find out like that. I'm really sorry."  
Ginny frowned.  
"Why the secrecy? I've never heard so much as a hint that you weren't available" she said thoughtfully. "Lavender Brown usually knows everything that goes on, and I've never heard your name linked with anyone except Hermione, and that stopped after she and Ron got together. You must both have been keeping it very quiet." She motioned Harry to walk beside her and they began heading slowly for Gryffindor Tower, taking the longest and most round-about route.  
"How long has it been going on?" she asked.  
"Since May in my fifth year really." said Harry "though we were friends before that"  
"That's nearly two years ago!" said Ginny in shock, stopping walking in amazement. "You've been going steady for two years and you've kept it secret all that time?"  
"Yes." said Harry quietly.  
"Why? There's got to be a reason, more than just 'We wanted to see if it was serious before telling everyone.' Two years is a long time."  
"That's what Ron and I fought about." said Harry quietly. "His reaction convinced us that this should be as secret as possible. You are the only person alive that knows."  
"Why? What's going on that Ron could be so seriously against?" asked Ginny curiously.  
"I'm in love with a Slytherin." said Harry softly. "Ron couldn't accept the idea that I could even find anyone from Slytherin attractive, let alone fall in love with one. The issue divided us, especially after Hermione left. There was always a rift between us after he knew, even though both of us ignored the issue. He pretended not to notice my absences and I made them as discreet as possible. Hermione had accepted it and had acted as a sort of buffer, but after she left Ron and I hardly even spoke. Neither of us really seemed to know what to say to each other. That's how I let your brother down." said Harry softly. A range of emotions had flickered across Ginny's face as he told his story, ranging from surprise to deep sorrow.  
"A Slytherin?" she said softly.  
"That's why we're keeping it quiet. The rest of the school, Gryffindor especially, would hate me for associating with the Slytherins. Both of us would be ostracised for consorting with the enemy."  
"I see what you mean. Won't you tell me who it is?"  
"No." said Harry flatly, unnerved by the fact that this time she had said 'it' rather than 'she'. He wondered if he should have said 'she' rather than carefully avoiding the gender issue. He mentally shook himself. He didn't want to lie more than he had to, and if he said 'he' she'd guess immediately. Everyone knew he sat next to Draco Malfoy in Potions, a male Slytherin, especially one that Ron had reacted so badly to, would have to be Malfoy. "It's better that nobody knows. I'm trusting you to keep this secret Ginny. Please don't even hint to anyone that I'm not available, OK?"  
"Sure" said Ginny quietly. "As long as you're happy. And not knowing who it is will be better for me anyway" she said with an attempt at a laugh. "That way the hate mail I write her will have to remain unsent!"  
Harry laughed slightly and the two resumed their journey back to Gryffindor Tower.  
  
The rest of the holiday passed surprisingly well, everything considered. He, Ginny and Neville spent most of the time helping each other with their holiday work and playing Exploding Snap. Harry found the time peaceful in the extreme, but he missed Draco. Draco had sent him a Christmas present - a silver ring in the shape of a stag's head, with emeralds for eyes. Harry shuddered to think what it must have cost. He decided to wear it onto the third finger of his left hand. Draco would be the only person who knew what it meant - apart from Ginny of course, and she wouldn't realise its full significance. Only Draco would know that. Harry had received quite good presents that year. Apart from the ring, a box of Chocolate frogs from Neville and a Collectible Cannons figurine from Ginny (plus yet another pair of socks from Dobby) he got a Weasley jumper, containing a note inviting him to stay in the summer holidays. His insides squirmed with guilt and he resolved to send a proper letter to Mrs Weasley thanking her for the jumper and telling her all the Hogwarts news. He decided to ask Ginny before accepting the offer to go and stay though.  
Harry had bought Draco a dragon with a mirror between its wings. The gift was intended partly as a joke - Draco was incredibly vain, especially about his hair - but Harry knew Draco would understand the feeling behind the gift.   
  
Harry wore the ring for the first time to his Potions lesson. He told anyone who asked that he had got it from a catalogue, but Draco knew the truth, and the significance of the finger he wore it on. The look in his eyes when he saw it made Harry glow for the rest of the day. Their meeting that night - their first since term began - was intensely tender. When Harry got back to his dormitory (hiding safely under the Invisibility cloak until he was sitting on his bed) he cried. Something about that night - midnight wanderings perhaps - had brought back such vivid memories of Ron it was almost as if his friend had died only yesterday. Remembering the Ron that he had known, the brave, cheerful boy who had gone through all Harry's adventures yet shared none of the glory and barely even resented it, Harry was suddenly convinced of Ginny's theory. Ron did not kill himself. As if some part of him had been waiting for this to sink in, Harry fell almost at once into a dreamless sleep and spent the most restful night since Ron's death.  
The next morning when Harry awoke, he looked at Ron's bed and remembered his realisation. He knew he needed to share it with Ginny. However, there was another Quidditch match looming, and apart from a quick discussion over breakfast as to whether he should go and stay (Ginny said yes) there was no opportunity for private chats. In fact, it wasn't until the Easter holidays that Harry got the opportunity to talk to Ginny. Many of the Gryffindor sixth and seventh years - Draco included, much to Harry's delight - had stayed behind simply due to the volume of work they had to do. On pretext of asking Ginny about a complex charm (Charms was Ginny's best subject, something she was incredibly gifted at), Harry dragged Ginny off to the library, where he informed her in whispers that he agreed with her that Ron had not killed himself, but they had no evidence to back them up, no motive and no suspects, so what did she think they should do next? Ginny had several theories, all of them most impractical, and Harry resorted to actually asking her about his Charms homework (which she completed in two seconds flat and got completely right, making Flitwick suspicious as Harry had never got ten out of ten on a homework before and earning him a detention, something Harry felt was rather unfair). Neither of them noticed the shadowy figure hiding in the stacks, listening to every word they said with a most unpleasant expression. The figure stood silently thinking hard.  
'They suspect something. Unfortunate, but not entirely unexpected. All is not yet lost. This just means I will have to be especially careful, and perhaps speed things up a little. It seems a shame to rush and not play the catch just a little more, but better land the catch rather than risk it slip off the hook.' With that the figure slipped silently out of the library and away, leaving Harry and Ginny blissfully unaware that they had been overheard.  
  
The remainder of the term passed in a blur. Harry had no time at all for further discussions with Ginny, so busy was he with revising for his NEWTs and Quidditch training for the last match of the year (which Gryffindor won, winning them the House Cup for the fourth season running). His relationship with Draco suffered as well. Both boys were working so hard they were only able to spend time together once a week, and sometimes not even that often. Harry regretted it, missed the private smile that Draco only gave him when they were alone, missed the way the other boy made him laugh. 'When the exams are over, we'll make up for it' he promised himself, twisting the stag ring on his finger. Draco said as much to him, and both boys concentrated on getting through their exams.  
The night the exams finished was one Harry was sure he'd never forget. The relief of knowing that all he could do now was wait filled him with exuberance, that all this years hard work was over and now he could relax. He and Draco sneaked off to the unused classroom on the fifth floor that they usually used for their meetings. Harry arrived a little late and was astonished at what he saw. The room, usually dusty and dark, was clean and lit with candles. A four-poster bed had been conjured to stand in one corner and all the desks had been moved out of the way.  
"Thought we'd make a night of it" said Draco, grinning and blushing slightly as Harry looked around in awe. "No one'll miss us tonight." Harry knew this was true. He went willingly to Draco and kissed him deeply.  
"This is wonderful" he said softly. "It looks so different. Really romantic."  
"I wanted it to be special" said Draco. "I cast soundproofing spells on the room so no one can hear us and there are spells on the windows and door so no one can see the lights." He went over to the door and tapped it lightly with his wand, saying a word Harry didn't know.  
"Now no one can get in. Even Alohomora won't do it." he said, grinning slightly .  
"Draco, you're brilliant!" grinned Harry, hugging him and giving him another kiss, sliding his hands lower, underneath his robes.  
"Now, now!" said Draco teasingly, pulling away. "There's plenty of time Harry. We've got all night, remember?" Harry pouted slightly, sticking out his lower lip. Draco laughed and kissed him quickly before pulling away completely and walking to the other wall where a radio stood. He turned it on quietly, allowing the music to fill the room, quite audible but not too loud for conversation.  
"I thought we could dance first." he explained, blushing again and avoiding Harry's eyes. "I've got wine as well if you want it, plus some food for later in case we get hungry."  
"You have planned this carefully!" said Harry, deeply touched by the other boy's gesture.  
"I love you." said Draco simply, the smile now completely gone. "Now, would you like to dance?"  
"I most certainly would" said Harry, walking over to join his lover in the middle of the room. Draco slid his arms around him and the two began to sway to the music. Harry buried his face in the other boy's neck, enjoying the feeling of being safe in his lovers arms, needed and protected and wanted. He felt the strain of the past few months - the past few years - begin to drift away. He was with Draco, and nothing could hurt him.  
The two danced for over an hour, just standing in each others arms, taking and giving reassurance that the last few months had not changed things. Eventually however, the closeness of their bodies overwhelmed them. Harry began to trail kisses along Draco's neck, working up to his lovers mouth and kissing him gently before returning his attentions to the other boy's neck. Draco groaned and began gently moving towards the bed. Harry returned his attentions to Draco's mouth and the two kissed gently, gradually deepening the kisses, keeping the build-up slow and teasing. Draco gently pushed Harry back onto the bed, managing to stop kissing him for long enough to say  
"Just think, our first time in a bed" before burying himself once again in Harry's embrace, allowing his hands to move slowly underneath his robes, feeling Harry's hands doing the same, caressing every part of his body until Draco was aching with need. Without him noticing it, Harry's skilled hands had removed his robes and he struggled to return the favour, every touch of Harry's hands sending thrills through him.  
* * *  
Later they lay cuddled together in a cozy half-sleep.  
"We can really stay here until morning?" asked Harry, a note of sleepy amazement in his voice.  
"We really can. I've set an alarm clock so we can be out of here before anyone misses us, but since they won't miss us until nine we've got ages really."  
"Lovely" said Harry, wriggling slightly into a more comfortable position in Draco's arms before falling properly asleep. Draco kissed him lightly and fell asleep himself.  
  
The next morning Harry woke first, even before the alarm went off. He lay still for a moment, wondering where he was and why he felt so happy. When he had remembered the answer to both questions, he rolled over carefully to look at Draco. He was obviously deeply asleep, looking young and vulnerable. Harry was unable to resist kissing him. Draco groggily opened his eyes.  
"Morning." said Harry, smiling slightly shyly. "Sorry I woke you."  
"I'm not" said Draco wickedly, leaning over and pulling Harry into his arms, kissing him deeply.  
When they finally got out of bed, they had to hurry to get dressed and get the room returned to normal before they were missed.  
"Whew" sighed Draco, getting ready to open the door.  
"Thanks" said Harry softly. "This was brilliant Draco. Completely perfect. I love you."  
"I know. I love you too Harry. Glad you liked it." Draco kissed him swiftly then opened the door and was gone. Harry waited five minutes, then raced to Gryffindor Tower for a quick shower and clean robes before having a late breakfast.  
  
The rest of the term passed in blur, despite Harry's frantic attempts to make the remainder of his time at Hogwarts pass more slowly. He and Draco spent a lot of time together, redefining their relationship and planning how best to continue it when they had left school and moved off into very different futures. Harry had decided to become an Auror, thinking that people would be trying to kill him anyway, and being able to defend himself would be useful. To that end he would be training in a college near London. Draco however would be following in his father's footsteps, eventually managing his father's shipping business. Both boys knew that seeing each other regularly would be very difficult, nearly impossible and both made the most of the last few weeks at Hogwarts. Harry, more so than anyone else in his year, didn't want to leave. Hogwarts was the only real home he had ever known, the location of all the happiest times of his life, and he hated the thought of never seeing it again. He was going back to the Dursleys for the beginning of the holidays while Sirius found him a flat in London where he could live until his training was finished and he was ready to move on. He was due to stay with the Weasleys for the first and second week in August (by which time Sirius should have found him a flat) and would go from there to his new home and settle in before beginning his training in September. Despite knowing in theory what would happen to him (though with You Know Who on the loose, Harry knew his future was likely to contain lots of surprises), Harry dreaded the thought of leaving the place where he had been so happy, the only place apart from Diagon Alley that contained so many memories of Ron and Hermione.   
The night before the end of term, Harry pulled on his father's Invisibility Cloak and went for one last look at the places that held most memories for him. First he visited the spot by the lake where he had gone when Hermione had told him she was dying, and he had first been kissed by Draco. He remembered pulling Ron out of the lake in the second task of the Triwizard Tournament and the account in the paper of Hermione's conversation with Krum. He walked around the lake and into the Forest to see the spot where he had produced his first Patronus - his father, the stag. Next he went to the base of the Whomping Willow and poked the knot on the trunk with a stick, quickly climbing down through the trapdoor and standing at the bottom, looking at the bumpy passage, remembering how he had felt when Sirius had invited him to live with him, over four years ago. He carefully made his way up the passage to the room where he had discovered that Sirius was innocent, Pettigrew was alive and Lupin was a werewolf. He stayed there for a while, reliving the memories of that night. He had never before been back to the Shrieking Stack, and the memories were clear, barely tainted by the events of the past four years.  
From there he went to the Quidditch pitch, remembering the defeat against Hufflepuff and Cedric Diggory when the Dementors had appeared on the pitch, the victories against Slytherin and winning the Quidditch Cup. He also remembered the end of his fourth year, when the Quidditch field had been transformed into a sinister maze, the site of the third Triwizard Task, and he and Cedric had decided to tie for the prize, a decision which had taken Cedric to his death. Harry stood there for a moment, then headed quietly for the shed where his Firebolt was stored. No-one would notice if he took it now, rather than in the morning when he was supposed to. He held it in his hands for a minute, remembering the day he got it, evading the Hungarian Horntail in the first task and all the Quidditch matches it had helped him win. He slid it under his cloak and headed for his last port of call. He sneaked easily back into the school, and headed with swift, sure steps to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Still covered by the Invisibility Cloak, he opened the door and went in. He looked round, remembering brewing the Polyjuice Potion in the toilet with Ron and Hermione in second year, and coming in here with Lockhart to rescue Ginny. He looked at the tap thoughtfully, remembering his conversation with Tom Riddle and the things he had learned since then. He stared at the snake, tilting his head slightly so that it seemed to move.  
"Open up" he hissed softly in Parseltongue. As he had known it would, almost as if he was inside his own memories, the entrance opened. Harry stared down the pipe, replaying in his head the last time he had been down here. He shrugged, hugged his Firebolt close to him and stepped into the pipe.  
The roof had decayed more since he had last been there. The gap through which he had squeezed with Ginny once the Basilisk had been defeated and the diary destroyed had almost disappeared. Harry managed to move some of the rubble to create an space that his new, taller self could squeeze through, but he knew that he didn't dare stay there for long. He made his way along the passage until he reached the statue of Slytherin. The corpse of the Basilisk was still there, so old and eaten by rats that it barely smelt. Harry picked his way carefully around it. Slytherin's mouth, the entry to the Basilisk's former home, was closed.  
"Speak to me Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four" intoned Harry, remembering the words Riddle had used to free the Basilisk all those years before. The statue's mouth opened, and Harry mounted his Firebolt and flew inside. This statue was hollow, the home of the Basilisk stretched out around him. Harry wondered to himself why he was doing this. He had never been in here before so it held no memories, and yet he felt compelled to look around the Basilisk's lair. He dismounted from his broom and began to look around.  
"Were you ever here?" he asked out loud. "Did you come this far into the Chamber?" His voice echoed around, but no other voice answered. Once he had begun talking, Harry found he couldn't stop.  
"Am I the last person to walk here since Salazar Slytherin himself?" he mused. "Am I the first for a thousand years?" He was beginning to feel cold now, wondering if he should turn round and leave. Who was to say the Basilisk had been the only thing in the Chamber?  
"Are all your secrets told? The Basilisk is dead, as is your creator. Do you have any more surprises - any more secrets to share, or is this Chamber best left to cave in?" Harry moved further into the cave, the sense of perhaps being the first in over a thousand years making him feel strangely powerful.  
"I am somewhere you have never been Father." he said out loud. He stopped still, and frowned. "Is that why I am here? To show I am my own person and not just your son? It seems a petty reason to enter such an evil place." He headed on, feeling even more uneasy.  
'I should have brought Draco. He would have been interested.' he thought, looking round and shivering slightly. 'I'll go once I've seen what's in that corner' he resolved, moving over there as if drawn to it.  
Set in a niche in the wall was a life-size statue of Slytherin, his hands clasped around a jewelled sword in an ornate scabbard. Even through the dust and slime of ages, Harry could see that this was the twin of the sword he had pulled from the Sorting Hat to fight the Basilisk.  
"Is this why I had to come here?" he asked thoughtfully, remembering the Arthurian legend of the sword in the stone, and how only one person could move it. "But I'm in Gryffindor! I got the Gryffindor sword - I won't be able to move it!" He stared at it, wondering whether it was booby-trapped in some way, or if he could just reach out and take it. For some reason, he wanted it. He didn't know why, just felt that he should reach out and take the sword from the statue, as if it had been waiting for him.   
"Is this why I came?" he asked, already stretching out his hand to touch the sword, poised to leap away if anything happened. His hand touched the hilt. Nothing happened. No monster leapt out to attack him, no bright light shone. He shrugged, took hold of the sword with both hands and manoeuvred it out of the statue's hands. It felt lighter than Gryffindor's sword had.  
"I was younger then." he said out loud, staring at the sword in his hands. The statue looked empty now, the hands folded over thin air. Harry felt the urge to laugh. The sound pealed out, echoing oddly through the dark cave.  
"This is my sword now" he said. "I, Harry Potter, came down here in the dead of night and stole the sword belonging to Salazar Slytherin himself!"   
'Stole?' a voice in the back of his mind asked. Harry pushed it aside. Rummaging in the pockets of his robes for a quill and a roll of parchment, he wrote in big letters:  
"The sword that once was here was taken by Harry Potter on July third, 1999"  
He rolled up his announcement and slid it into the statues hands where the sword had been. He stepped back, sword in hand to look at his handiwork. As if his reactions had begun something, he heard in the distance the groan of strained masonry.  
"Goodbye Slytherin." he said aloud. "I doubt anyone will come here again." He mounted his Firebolt, fastening the sword in its scabbard to his waist and flew quickly out of the Chamber, closing the outer entrance only. He suspected Slytherin's mouth closed itself, he certainly hadn't closed it the last time he had left. Then Harry crept silently up to his dormitory. He wrapped the sword in some old robes and hid it at the bottom of his trunk before falling into bed.  
  
The next day, Harry had little time to think of the night's events. The departure from Hogwarts filled his mind, leaving no room for midnight mysteries. Harry was not the only one who cried. The atmosphere on the train was subdued at first, but gradually became more cheerful as people began to swap stories of their schooldays, accounts of practical jokes, funny exam answers and all the events of a normal school career. Harry joined in cheerfully enough, feeling only a momentary pang as he thought of Ron and Hermione, the two friends who should have been with him that day. An hour before the train arrived in London, Harry met Draco in the toilets to say goodbye. Both of them cried, and their embrace was tinged with desperation. Harry didn't have time to tell Draco about the sword.   
All too soon, the train arrived at Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. Harry hugged his old school-friends and promised to keep in touch before stepping out into the Muggle area of the station.  
"Hurry up boy! Stop dawdling!" Uncle Vernon barked. Instead of obeying him, Harry stopped and looked at the barrier, through which people were still emerging in ones and twos. He smiled at Draco who had just appeared, then said softly:  
"Goodbye Ron. Goodbye Hermione. I'll never forget you."  
Then he turned and followed Uncle Vernon out of the station into the sunlight.  
  
  
What is the purpose of the sword? Did something really happen to Ron, or is Harry just imagining things? Next part coming soon, but please, please, PLEASE REVIEW! or I may start feeling unappreciated!  
  



	6. Revelations

Several days passed before Harry looked at the sword. Life in Privet Drive had not changed at all, except for the fact that Dudley (and himself by extension) was allowed to go out more, both during the day and in the evenings. Harry tried to spend as much time out of the house as possible, and the knowledge that he only had to spend four weeks there was very comforting. The issue of the sword, however, was not. Harry knew very well that he should not have been poking around such a potentially dangerous area as the Chamber of Secrets, and that to have taken something as old and valuable as the sword belonging to Salazar Slytherin was outright theft. Harry knew he had behaved badly, yet was unsure of the best way of making up for his deed. Should he just send the sword to Dumbledore anonymously, or tell Sirius, let him decide what to do? Harry did what he always did when in doubt - wrote to Draco.  
  
Dear Draco,  
How are you? I'm OK here so far this year. Now I am fully trained, they are even more scared of me than they were before, and the fact that I am nearly eighteen gets me some freedom too. I spend most of my time lurking in cafes and bars, keeping out of the house. If you know of any wizard pubs or bars or something in this area, could you tell me? My knowledge of Muggle current events is rubbish so I'm nervous of talking to people, and I'm running out of Muggle money as well.  
Having said that things are fine, I do have a problem. On the last night of school, I went to say goodbye to all the places that I have special memories of. In one of them, I found something quite old, and probably very valuable. I should have given it straight to Professor Dumbledore, but I hid it in my trunk and brought it home with me. I feel really guilty about it, but I don't know what to do. I basically stole it, and I want to make it right but I don't know how. I'd rather not tell you what it was or where I found it - it was most definitely somewhere I should not have been and I am ashamed. All I can say is, it is old, probably valuable and nobody knows I have it. Sorry to bother you about this, but I'm afraid to tell Sirius and there isn't really anyone else I can talk to.  
Lots of love  
Harry  
  
Harry read the letter over. He really didn't want to confess to anyone that he had stolen the sword of Salazar Slytherin from the Chamber of Secrets, but he felt guilty for not telling Draco the whole story.  
'He may have ideas anyway. I can't tell him exactly what I've done, so either ask his advice like this or don't ask it at all!' Harry told himself firmly. He stood for a moment, then fastened the letter to Hedwig's leg and sent her to deliver it.  
  
Draco wrote back quickly, much to Harry's relief.  
  
Dear Harry,  
I'll talk about this object first, since I know you won't read anything else I have to say properly until I've assuaged your guilt! The way I see it, the most important question is whether anyone will miss it. If no one knows you have it, and no one will miss it then there is no point getting yourself into trouble by returning it. Another aspect to consider is, if they do miss it, will they know it was you who took it? My initial answer from what you've told me is to hang onto it and hope no one traces it to you. If you think the chances are that they will trace it to you, then return it quickly - it makes it look as if it was a mistake, not anything else. I can't give you any more advice because I don't know what it is or where you found it. I'm intrigued now though - won't you tell me?  
I'm sorry to hear about those Muggles. I would say hex them, but you don't want to risk more trouble. How long is it until you move into your flat in London?   
On the topic of wizard pubs, you could try The Wand and Whistle on Mulberry Street. That's not too dodgy, you should be OK there.   
I really miss you.  
Love,  
Draco  
  
Harry re-read Draco's letter several times, trying to get it straight in his mind. No one would miss the sword as far as he knew. No one but a Parselmouth could get into the Chamber of Secrets, no one had been in but Tom Riddle, Ginny and himself since the Chamber was made. Ginny couldn't get back in on her own, and hadn't gone that far in anyway. The only one who might know that there should be a sword there was Voldemort, but he couldn't get back to check and discover its absence. Harry should be quite safe hanging onto the sword for a little while. He could give it back to Dumbledore when he next saw him, which would probably be fairly soon. There was no need to make a great fuss, even Draco thought so. Harry nodded to himself, relieved to have justified his possession of the sword for a while. He carefully did not consider why he wanted to keep the sword, but sat down and wrote a letter to Draco thanking him for his advice which had helped him to make a decision. Harry sent Hedwig off with the letter, then headed downstairs. Dudley was eating at the table. He had actually managed to slim down a bit, and was (to Harry's mingled surprise and disgust) not bad looking in a huge sort of way.  
"What are you doing?" asked Dudley. Aunt Petunia was nowhere to be seen. Harry assumed she and Uncle Vernon must have gone shopping.  
"Getting something to eat." he retorted shortly.   
"You aren't allowed to do that." said Dudley, looking mean.  
"Whether your parents like it or not, I live here, and am therefore entitled to some food."  
"I'll tell Mum."  
"Don't be pathetic Dudley. You're eighteen years old; try to act like it." Harry walked over to the fridge and started to make himself a cheese sandwich.  
"What are you going to do today?" asked his cousin. Harry felt surprised, and suspicious. Dudley now sounded almost friendly. What was going on?  
"Check out a pub on Mulberry Street my friend told me about."  
"What do you normally do?"  
"Sit in some Muggle cafe and try to make two cups of coffee last all day. In this place, I'll actually have some money."  
"You lot have special pubs then?"  
"Yes" said Harry, sitting down opposite his cousin and starting on the cheese sandwich.  
"We have everything you have, but it's hidden. There are loads of special places Muggles can't get into, like the place in London where I buy my school stuff and the platform I go to school from."  
"Why do you hide them?"  
"If everyone knew about us, they'd want us to solve their problems for them, and that's not how it should be, so we hide. Besides, Muggles don't like us much. Don't you know about the witch-burnings in the Middle Ages?"  
"Things'd be different now, wouldn't they?"  
"I doubt it. Your parents hate me because I'm a wizard don't they? And some people at school hate all Muggles, and anyone descended from Muggles. My friend Hermione got a lot of stick from them because both her parents were Muggles."  
"I suppose." Dudley fell silent, continued eating.  
"Why the sudden interest anyway?" Harry asked, getting up to wash up his plate. "You've never shown any interest in me or my people before, so why now? Is there something you want me to do for you?"  
"Well," began Dudley. "There is this girl I like.."  
"Oh no," said Harry. "I am not making you any sort of love potion Dudley. No way. Nah uh."  
"Oh come on Harry," said Dudley in a wheedling tone of voice. "Please."  
"No. Love Potions are restricted anyway. I've never even made one, and I think they're wrong anyhow."  
"Isn't there some sort of potion or spell or something I could use to see if she likes me?"  
"No." said Harry resignedly. "Dudley, I can't help you."  
"I bet you're lying." said Dudley angrily, pushing his hair away from the table and getting to his feet. 'Oh crap.' thought Harry. Although both boys were the same height now, Dudley was built on a much burlier scale than Harry and probably outweighed him by several stone.  
"I really can't help you. I'd go to prison!" he said, moving swiftly towards the door while keeping the table between himself and Dudley. 'If I fight with him, I'll probably be kicked out. Damn and blast!'  
"I'm sorry if this girl doesn't like you, but there's nothing I can do." he continued, reaching out to open the door. "I can't help you for two reasons, it's against wizarding law and I don't know how. OK? I'm sorry, but that's how it is." Harry opened the door and began to go through it.  
"Liar," his cousin's voice hissed after him. "You'll be sorry for that Harry,"  
"I'm sorry I couldn't help you." said Harry, and headed for his room. 'That's all I need,' he thought gloomily. "I'd best make sure to lock all my stuff up when I'm not here.' The thought did not fill him with joy. He sighed as he walked into his room. For a minute he thought he had gone back in time. Pigwidgeon was flying round the room, twittering excitedly and occasionally bumping into the lightshade.  
"Pig!" he exclaimed, extending his hand to the tiny owl. "Come here boy!" The little ball fluttered over. Harry grabbed him gently and removed the letter from his leg. Taking the little owl over to Hedwig's empty cage he put him down next to the water dish. The little owl took a couple of sips, ate an owl treat, then fluffed up his feathers importantly before going to sleep. Harry shrugged, and turned the letter to the back to see ho had written to him.  
'Ginny, of course,' he thought, a strange emotion stealing over him.  
"You didn't half give me a fright" he said fondly to Pig. "For a moment there, I thought Ron was writing to me from beyond the grave." He lay down on his bed to read the letter. Ginny had written him a long letter, full of family news and jokes, as well as funny stories about each family member. It was just what Harry needed to cheer him up and he read it happily, resolving to write back to Ginny that evening, after checking out the pub. The slamming of a door downstairs alerted him to the fact his uncle and aunt were back. He tucked the letters from Ginny and Draco into his pocket to read later, took some wizard gold from his trunk and headed downstairs and out of the front door.  
  
The rest of that week, and the week after it, passed almost without incident. Dudley had reverted to his usual nasty self, and seemed to have forgotten his threat to make Harry sorry. Harry had found the pub much to his liking and had begun to think of it as a second home. He wrote to Draco a lot, as both knew that they wouldn't be able to write once Harry went to stay with the Weasleys. Harry also wrote to Ginny, with whom he was keeping up a steady correspondence. Harry got the feeling she was lonely now that Percy and the twins were away most of the time. He made sure to write back as quickly as he could. He had now almost got used to the sight of Pigwidgeon fluttering through his window, though he still felt a pang whenever he saw the little owl. Harry was very careful not to mention that he was still in touch with anyone else. He had never told Ginny about Sirius, and he wasn't sure what she knew of the war. For his part, both Sirius and Remus wrote him a great many letters, keeping him up to date on what was going on. Draco's carefully worded letters told him a little more, and Harry felt he knew quite a lot about what was happening in the wizarding world.  
Harry was looking forward to his visit to the Weasleys much more now, though he was dreading being there without Ron. But the days passed quickly, and before he knew it he was standing in the Weasley kitchen, being hugged tightly by Mrs Weasley.  
"Hello Harry," she said thickly, releasing him and fumbling for a handkerchief. Harry found to his amazement that his own cheeks were wet. "It's so good to see you again dear. It's been too long."   
"I agree," said Harry. "I'm sorry," he said, not knowing how to express what he was feeling, just knowing that he had to say something.  
"You mustn't blame yourself Harry," said Mrs Weasley in horror. "It was not your fault, it wasn't anybody's."  
"Perhaps we should talk about this later," interjected Mr Weasley. "Let Harry get settled in first,"  
"Yes, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to talk about this now."  
"We've put you in Percy's old room." said Mr Weasley. "He won't be home, and we didn't think you'd like to go in Ron's room."  
"Percy's room sounds good," said Harry.  
"Let me show you where it is," said Ginny quickly. Harry nodded gratefully at her and followed her up the stairs.  
"Here you go," she said, leading him into a room that was slightly larger than Ron's, and certainly much neater.  
"I hope my coming here hasn't upset your mum too much," said Harry, putting his trunk at the bottom of the bed and turning to look at Ginny.  
"She's talked about nothing else for the last three weeks," said Ginny dryly. "She's always been fond of you, you know that."  
"Yes, but.." Harry let his voice trail off, not sure how to say what he was thinking.  
"You think you remind her of Ron?" said Ginny gently. "Of course you do, how could you not, but it's been over two years now and we've all begun to move on."  
"Perhaps I should have come sooner then," said Harry gloomily, turning away from her to look out of the window.  
"Don't avoid the issue!" said Ginny directly, but not harshly. "Ron's dead, and we've all had to accept that, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't talk about him. She'll want to, and you'd best be prepared for that."  
"I know." said Harry softly. He heard Ginny turn and move towards the door.   
"Gin?" he said uncertainly, the pressure of his secret feeling like a lead weight in his stomach.  
"Yes?" she asked, an almost eager note in her voice. Harry hesitated, then his nerve failed him.  
"Nothing, it's OK."  
"I'll come back in half an hour when you've settled in a bit. We can play Quidditch or something if you like."  
"Yeah, that'd be nice." said Harry, inwardly berating himself for not telling Ginny everything now. He heard the door close behind her and clenched his fists at his sides.  
"Stupid." he said out loud. "Stupid, stupid, stupid." His face screwed into a frown of frustration he turned and flopped down on the bed.  
"It doesn't have to be a secret any more." he told himself. "You could tell her. You can trust her."  
"Soon." he promised himself. "You can tell her soon." With a sigh he got up off the bed and began to look for his Quidditch stuff. As he did so, his hand brushed against the sword hidden at the bottom of his trunk.  
  
Harry settled in nicely at the Weasleys. The awkward atmosphere lessened after a few days, and they talked easily of Ron, remembering the good times they'd had. Harry noticed that they avoided the subject of Ron's last term. He supposed that that was only natural, and that Ginny had told them all she knew anyway. For some reason, the idea of visiting Ron's room was growing in Harry's mind. It had come to him on the first morning, and though he tried to push it away as morbid and strange, the desire was growing stronger. The day before he was supposed to leave, he mentioned it to Ginny. The two had been practising Quidditch in fresh evening air and had stopped for a rest.  
"Gin?" he asked casually.  
"Yes?" she responded lazily, enjoying the warmth of the evening sun on her back.  
"Do you think I could look in Ron's room?"  
Ginny rolled over to look at him, pulling herself into a sitting position.  
"I don't see why not." she said easily. "Shall we go now? We've got half an hour before tea."  
"Won't your mum mind?" asked Harry nervously, looking surprised at how easy it had been.  
"No, and she's making tea now anyway. She probably won't even notice." Harry still looked unsure, and Ginny smiled at him. "Come on, let's go now."  
Harry took a deep breath and stood up. The two walked back to the house in silence and made their way to Ron's bedroom. Ginny went in first, holding the door open for Harry. Harry stepped in quietly and closed it behind him. The room didn't look like a room belonging to someone who was dead. The Chudley Cannon posters were still on the wall, Ron's trunk was placed neatly at the end of his bed, his broomstick propped carelessly in the corner. The sunlight slanting across the neatly made-up bed gave an air of life to the room, and if Harry hadn't known better he would have thought that his friend had just stepped out for a minute. He swallowed away a lump in his throat and stared around it again. Now he could see the small signs that this room was unoccupied. It was tidier than it had been when he had seen it (though that could have been because there was no camp-bed set up in the corner for him to sleep on) and the bed itself was much neater than it would have been had Ron left it. The posters were all out of date.   
"OK?" asked Ginny softly. The sound of her voice made Harry jump.  
"I suppose," he whispered.  
"Why are you whispering?" she asked quietly. "Mum won't be able to hear us anyway, and she wouldn't mind if she did."  
"It just doesn't seem right to talk loudly." he said uncertainly. His gaze was drawn to the trunk. Ginny followed his line of sight.  
"That hasn't been opened since he died, as far as I know." she said softly. "I think they took his clothes out, but that's all."  
There was a long pause, as both of them stood looking at the trunk.  
"Should we open it?" asked Ginny. Now she was whispering too. "There might be clues in there." Harry nodded.  
"Do you think it's right?" he whispered back. "Going through his things doesn't seem fair somehow, even if he is dead." His mind was drawn back to the sword in his own trunk, the letter from Draco hidden beneath it.  
"Someone will look eventually." she said uncertainly. "We'll need the trunk or the room or something. We're not snooping, we want to know what happened."  
"I hope you're right." said Harry. He knew they would open the trunk, had known they would as soon as he had seen it in the room. He walked over to it and gently lifted the lid.  
Ginny came over hesitantly, knelt on the floor next to Harry in front of the trunk.  
"It looks very empty without his clothes." she said blankly, staring at the jumble of objects in the bottom of the trunk. Ron's school books were gone too, and all that was left inside the huge trunk were a jumble of personal artefacts - a handful of Chocolate Frog cards, a framed picture of Hermione, another of himself and Harry, a book about the Chudley Cannons, a couple of comics and three spiral-bound notebooks. These Harry lifted out uncertainly.  
"I wonder what these are," he said, a suspicion forming in his mind. He opened one, looking inside it.   
"His diary," said Ginny gently. Harry shut it quickly, a knot of fear forming in his stomach as he realised what these books could contain. Throughout his stay he had refused to discuss his partner, his fear of what Ginny would say if she knew he was gay and in love with the boy who's father was her family's sworn enemy being too much to surmount. The habit of secrecy he had got into after hiding his romance for two years had proved too strong to break, and Harry didn't think he could cope with her reaction if she found out all the details of his argument with Ron.  
"I didn't know he kept a diary," he said, staring at the small book in his hands; the book that contained the secrets of Ron's last year and the events leading up to his death.  
"Gin, I can't read it." he said, coming to a quick decision. "It's his diary, it's private,"  
"I know what you mean, but Harry, we must!" said Ginny urgently. "This could tell us what we need to know." Her face was flushed red, her eyes full of emotion. Harry was reminded forcibly that this was her brother who had died, and that Ginny needed answers, probably more than he did as to how her brother had died, answers that this diary quite probably contained.  
"Ginny, I can't," he said, listening in amazement to the words coming out of his mouth. "It wasn't written for anyone to read, it's his most private and secret possession. I can't violate his privacy by reading it."  
"But Harry," Ginny began.  
"Harry! Ginny! Supper's ready!"  
"Come on, we'd better go," said Harry. Ginny nodded, her face flushed.  
"This isn't the end of this," she said softly. "We need to talk about this more." She watched him as he put the books back into the trunk and closed the lid gently. Her eyes seemed full of disappointment and betrayal, and Harry squirmed as he followed her down the stairs, knowing would he was going to do was unforgivable by any standards, but seeing no alternative other than risk Ginny find out the truth, something he could barely even contemplate. He wished Draco was here, that his boyfriend could help him with this decision.  
Tea was a jolly meal which lasted for a long time, and there was not time or opportunity before Harry and Ginny went to bed to discuss the matter of the diaries any further. Harry knew there would be no time in the morning. He was to meet Sirius in Diagon Alley at ten o'clock, and they would go to his new flat while the Weasleys bought Ginny's school things. He and Ginny would have little chance for a private chat, and once he had gone..  
When he was sure that everyone was in bed, Harry carefully got out of bed and went over to his trunk, removing the Invisibility Cloak and wrapping it around himself. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn't risk Ginny getting the diaries. He positioned a pillow in the bed so that if Ginny should have decided to creep in and discuss this while her parents were asleep she would not immediately see that his bed was unoccupied. He hoped she wouldn't, but the pillow might buy him valuable time. Creeping over to the door he opened it just wide enough for him to squeeze through and pushed it to carefully, making sure that the door did not click shut. Harry moved stealthily up the stairs, using his years of creeping around after lights-out to his full advantage. He was glad to see that there was no light under Ginny's door, and gladder still to see that there was no light under the door of the room which had been Ron's. He pushed it open quietly, hoping that it wouldn't creak. The room was bathed in moonlight, and Harry pulled the door to slightly before moving hurriedly over to the trunk. His heart was beating like a drum, he knew that this wasn't right and yet he was still doing it.  
'I guess it's a slippery slope.' he thought sarcastically as he gently opened the trunk. 'First the sword, now this.' He reached into the trunk and removed the three spiral-bound notebooks, slipping them underneath his Cloak and rummaging through the loose papers scattered at the bottom of the trunk.  
'I hope there's nothing else important in there,' he thought, removing his hand and closing the lid of the trunk gently. He looked around the room, cast into eerily sharp relief by the moonlight.   
"I'm sorry Ron," he whispered, tears beginning to run down his face as he stared at the room which had belonged to his best friend with his stolen diaries close against his body. "I'm really sorry," He stood for a moment, allowing the tears to flow unchecked down his face, before turning and making his silent way back to his room, where he hid the diaries with the letters from Draco before climbing into his now-cold bed and crying himself to sleep.  
  
The next morning, Harry didn't feel at all refreshed by his night's sleep. The thought of the diaries lurking at the bottom of his trunk meant that he could not enjoy the hasty breakfast and cheerful atmosphere of his last morning at the Weasleys. He managed to avoid letting Ginny catch him alone, hoping that she hadn't realised that that was what he was trying to do, but knowing she had. He heaved a sigh of relief when he was finally standing in Diagon Alley and saw Padfoot coming towards him.  
"Well, thanks very much for having me. I had a great time." he said, turning to Mrs Weasley, who pulled him into a tight hug.  
"Any time Harry dear, it's been lovely seeing you again," she said.  
"Don't forget to keep in touch," added Mr Weasley.  
"Yeah," agreed Ginny, hugging Harry awkwardly.   
"I will," Harry promised. Padfoot appeared by his side and wagged his tail gratefully at the Weasleys.   
"Well, bye then," said Harry. He turned and began to manoeuvre his trunk though the crowds until they were back in Muggle London. Sirius had acquired a small car, and while Harry loaded his trunk into the back of it, Sirius transformed back into himself.  
"Did you have a nice time?" he asked as they drove towards Harry's new home.  
"It was great thanks," said Harry. "A bit strange without Ron, but still."  
"The rest of the summer go OK?"  
"Yes, well, not really but better than usual. But enough about me, how are you?"  
Sirius launched into a quick account of the summer's events which were too important to be trusted to letters and Harry listened intently, pushing the thought of the stolen diaries to the back of his mind. Eventually they pulled up in front of a block of flats.  
"We're on the top floor, I'm afraid, but it comes ready furnished so it's cheaper."  
"It's OK," said Harry. "This looks fine." Sirius showed Harry which bedroom was going to be his, then left him to settle in while he went to make them a meal. Harry enjoyed arranging his few personal belongings out over a whole room and getting himself moved in - it took his mind off the diaries and the sword, both of which weighed heavily on his conscience. When Sirius called he went quickly into the main room where they passed a happy evening. He went to bed early however, saying that he was tired. Sirius accepted this, and Harry locked his door carefully before opening his trunk and pulling out the sword he had stolen from the Chamber of Secrets.  
'Is this sword having a bad influence on me?' he wondered, staring at the jewel-encrusted hilt. 'Did it somehow make me steal the diaries from Ron's trunk?' He stood there, feeling the heft of it in his hand and making a couple of passes at the air, fencing an unseen enemy for a while before sheathing the sword again. In an attempt to delay facing the diaries, he sat down to write a letter to Draco.  
'Dear Draco,  
How are you? I've moved into the flat in London with Sirius now. It's small, but I've never had a bedroom completely to myself before that I can arrange how I like. Sirius has agreed to let me have a new carpet, as this one is pale pink! I had a good time at the Weasleys with Ginny. None of the older ones were there, so it was just us most of the time. I really missed you though. Is there any way you can get to London without making your parents, especially your father, suspicious? I really need to see you. I know you'll be able to help me. I told you in an earlier letter about the sword I stole from Hogwarts, but now I've stolen something much worse. On the last full day at the Weasleys, Ginny and I went into Ron's room, and we found his diaries for the last year of his life. I knew there'd be stuff about us in there, things I haven't told Ginny or even hinted about, so I said I felt wrong about reading Ron's diaries, even if they do have the answers she wants. We had to go for dinner then, and we didn't have time to discuss it that night. While everyone else was asleep, I sneaked upstairs and stole the diaries from his trunk. I haven't told Ginny what I've done, and I feel terrible about it. I mean, that would be the easiest way for her to find out about us, she really needs answers about her brother's death and I have stolen them from her. I've done a horrible, cruel thing, and I dread to think what will happen when Ginny finds out what I've done. I really need to see you - you always know how to make me feel better. Do you think she can ever forgive me?  
I'm sorry, this wasn't supposed to be a complaining letter. I've been unable to write to you for so long, I've spent ages planning what I'd say, but somehow I haven't said any of it. I love you Draco. Write to me soon.  
All my love,  
Harry'  
  
  
Harry stared at the letter for a minute before attaching it to Hedwig's leg and sending her out to Draco. He watched until she was out of sight, and then, unable to put it off any longer, reached for the diaries. He opened the first one, and began to read, devouring the details of Ron's life that Ron had thought significant enough to record. As he read, his sense of unease grew. He finished the first book and tossed it aside, reaching for the second, and then the third. Every entry was dated, and while Ron certainly seemed unhappy about Hermione's death and the Malfoy situation, he did not seem nearly unhappy enough to want to kill himself. Ron's entries spoke of the wall between himself and Harry over the issue of Malfoy which he did not dare try and cross, Ron's certainty that Malfoy was using Harry for some unfathomable purpose, the gap in his life where Hermione had been as well as the random day-to-day events of school life, but his diary did not read like the diary of someone who was going to commit suicide in (Harry checked the dates) two weeks. He was looking forward to going home for the holidays, he was pleased with his performance in his OWLS, even if he was nervous about his results. Harry stopped reading for a moment, his stomach clenched. He walked over to the window and stared out at the unfamiliar view. He was about to read the story of his friend's last two weeks of life, and more than ever he was terrified of what he might find. He was nearly sure that, unless some cataclysmic event had occurred that Harry was unaware of, Ron had not killed himself. This diary could be about to reveal the identity of a murderer at Hogwarts, a murderer who was never suspected and still walked free. The silence in the flat weighed heavy on Harry's mind as he sat down on the bed and resumed reading. The diary continued in the same vein for another week and a half, but then came the entry that froze Harry's heart.  
  
*Ron's Diary*  
  
My fears about Malfoy were confirmed today. I was last out of Potions this afternoon, and as I was leaving I saw a folded piece of paper under the desk that Harry and Draco share. I knew it must belong to one or other of them, so I picked it up and put it into my pocket to return later. The next lesson was History of Magic, and while Professor Binns was droning on, I read it. It was a letter to Malfoy from his father. Most of it was just the normal boring stuff from home - they are redecorating the drawing room in pale peach and other drivel like that, but the last sentence was this: "Your last report was encouraging. We are pleased with you but be careful - if you fail us in this the consequences will be severe."  
Now, what is that supposed to mean but that Malfoy is luring Harry into some evil plot of the Dark Lord's? I've sent Malfoy a note with Pig, telling him that I have the letter and asking him to explain that part. I don't know whether to tell Harry or not. I've got the letter, that's proof, but what if he doesn't believe me? I know I shouldn't have been reading other people's letters, and Harry'll probably think that I'm just being paranoid and bearing grudges, making mountains out of molehills and trying to split him and Malfoy up. But I'm sure something fishy's going on. I wish Hermione was here. She'd know what to do.  
  
  
Harry blinked, refusing to believe what he'd just read. There must be an innocent explanation - what Ron had written couldn't be true! Quickly he read on.  
  
*Ron's Diary*   
  
Malfoy sent me a note this morning. He wants me to meet him at two in the morning at the top of the main stairs, bringing the letter with me. He says he'll explain everything then, and not to tell Harry before he's had a chance to explain. I'll be interested to hear this explanation. It'd better be good. I hope for Harry's sake it is. He really seems to love Malfoy, and I'd hate to see him hurt, which he most certainly would be if Malfoy was only going out with him to lure him to YKW. I hope it's OK. It's nearly time for me to go now. I'd better not get caught. That really WOULD be impossible to explain!  
  
  
That was the last entry. Horrified, Harry stared at the diary, his mind a swirling fog of emotion. He double-checked the date at the top of the entry, and it repeated what he already knew. The next morning, Ron had been found dead, hanging from the banisters of the main stairs. Desperately, Harry riffled through the pages, willing some writing onto the empty sheets. He re-read the entries, praying that it wasn't true, that somehow it had changed. But it still remained the same. Ron's scrawly, distinctive script told him that on the night he had died, Ron had gone to meet Draco alone, and he had not come back.  
  
  
Well, was that worth the wait? Congratulations to those who saw that coming. The next part should be here very soon, and there are probably only two more parts to go anyway. I'd really like you to REVIEW, and please recommend this to your friends if you like it, because I very rarely seem to get any reviews! Thanks very much to everyone who has reviewed already - you really make this worthwhile and your comments are really valued! 


	7. Showdown

Showdown  
  
Disclaimer - I do not own the characters, and I make no money (from this or from anything else!). This is not intended as copyright infringement, please do not sue!  
  
  
Harry did not sleep at all that night. He didn't even try, just sat staring into space. He re-read the last two diary entries over and over again, a sensation of numb horror settling over his shoulders like a heavy weight. He relived all his time with Draco, trying to see whether there had been any clues, whether he should have seen this all along instead of missing it completely. His boyfriend, the man he had been in love with for over two years, was a murderer. Somehow, probably using the Imperious curse, he had made Ron hang himself. Had he watched as Ron flailed at the end of the rope, choking and gasping his life away? Had he spoken to Ron first, or hit him with the curse from behind as Ron stood waiting for him trustingly at the top of the stairs? Harry believed the diary implicitly now - what reason would Ron have to lie in his diary, in a book that he was not expecting anyone else ever to read. Despite Harry's desperate attempts to find some explanation, he knew that there was none other than that spelt out in the diary. Draco Malfoy had murdered Ron Weasley. Harry's boyfriend had murdered his best friend. Harry knew Draco could use the Dark Arts - Draco had occasionally spoken of them to Harry; they had discussed the fact that he had to learn them, had to do what he was told or face the loss of his family and lands his family had owned for centuries and possible death. Harry had sympathised at the time, but now he thought detachedly that it had all been lies, that Draco loved the Dark Arts, loved being able to torture and kill with a single word. For Draco to have used the Imperious Curse was perfectly possible. Too stunned even to cry, Harry sat by the window, waiting for dawn, waiting for Sirius to wake so he could confess what he'd done.   
At about four, Hedwig returned from delivering the letter to Draco, the letter confessing the theft of the diaries, the letter containing another declaration of love. Harry caressed Hedwig's head thoughtfully, a vague thought trying to make itself heard among all the others clamouring for his attention. The snowy owl seemed to sense that her owner was upset, she hooted quietly and gave him a small nip before flying to her cage. Harry sat until dawn, lost in a haze of memories.  
When Harry could hear Sirius in the kitchen, singing cheerfully to himself as he burnt some toast, he stood stiffly and made his way to the door, trying to stretch some of the stiffness from his limbs. Clutching the diary in his hand he pushed open the door.  
"Morning Harry! Sleep well?" asked Sirius, his gaze fixed intently on the toast as if daring it to burn again.  
"Sirius," said Harry. His voice sounded cracked and hoarse, as if he hadn't spoken for years. "Sirius, I've made a mistake. I've made a terrible mistake."  
"I rather think you have," drawled a familiar voice. Harry and Sirius whipped around in time to see Draco Malfoy stroll jauntily out of Sirius's bedroom, closely followed by his father, Lord Voldemort and Wormtail. Sirius inhaled sharply at the sight of Wormtail, but otherwise said nothing. Harry stared at his lover. Draco looked poised, elegant and completely in control. Harry searched his face in vain for any sign that what they had shared, what he had thought they shared, was not all an illusion.   
"You killed Ron," he said softly. "You murdered him in cold blood."  
"True," said Draco, without a hint of regret. "He was in my way. He both prevented you from being completely mine and held the means to destroy me. He had to go."  
"Why?" asked Harry, the pain in his voice making Sirius wince.  
"Because I asked him to," said Voldemort. "And look, our plan worked. The great Harry Potter, in love with a Malfoy. Can't eat, can't sleep for pining over a boy your own common sense should have told you could never be yours. Still, I suppose that's Gryffindors for you. Blindly trusting, just like your friend Ron,"  
"You aren't worthy to speak his name." snapped Harry. He stared at Voldemort in rage, almost ready to launch himself at the Dark Lord, the fact that he was unarmed and defenceless barely crossing his mind.  
"There must be something else," said Sirius into the momentary pause. Harry darted a look of confusion at him, he suspected that Sirius was trying to tell him something, but he wasn't sure what.  
"I mean, this is a lot of effort to go to to destroy one boy. Just because he had lived so far was no guarantee he would live again. What else do you want from him?"  
"Maybe you've finally grown up, Padfoot," sneered Wormtail, spitting Sirius's childhood nickname like a curse. "Perhaps you've learned to see the bigger picture at last."  
"The information he passed us was very helpful," said Voldemort casually. "At this very moment my Dementors are taking down your strongholds. Within hours, the wizarding world will be mine, and mine alone. Fudge is dead, and Dumbledore will soon join him, thanks to Harry,"  
"No," Harry whispered, staring at Draco in horror.  
"Yes," said the other boy smugly. "All your letters went straight to my father and the useful information in them was immediately made known to those it concerned. Did you not wonder why you were making so little progress? We knew about most of your raids. Only those who had incurred the wrath of the Dark Lord were left there. You have helped us to victory Harry, and with what you have given us we will eliminate all the Mudblood magic-users and those who are unworthy to study magic."  
"And so, the Boy Who Lived looks out on the last day of his life," hissed Voldemort softly. "What do you see child? You lived a lie, clinging to illusions. Will you accept the inevitable and die like a man?"  
"I will not make it easy for you," said Harry staunchly, hoping that Sirius had prepared whatever it was he was going to do.  
"I expected you wouldn't," said Voldemort calmly. Suddenly his wand was in his hand. Harry heard a shout and threw himself to the floor. Voldemort shouted another word, and Sirius's spell rebounded off a magical shield.  
"Go!" yelled Sirius. Harry dived for his bedroom, knowing nothing except that he had to reach his wand. Slamming the door behind him in a vain attempt to buy himself some time, he dived for his trunk. As he grabbed his wand, his hand brushed the sword. He grasped it quickly in his hand, holding the wand in his right. The door behind him exploded in a cloud of splinters, a lump of wood hitting Harry so hard on the side of his face that he staggered and nearly fell. He turned quickly, feeling dazed, to see the figure silhouetted in the doorway lifting his wand.  
"IMPEDIMENTA!" yelled Harry, pointing his wand at the blond figure. He heard him begin a spell, but saw him go rigid and freeze and knew his spell had worked.   
"Petrificus Totalus," he said calmly, and the frozen figure fell to the floor. Harry quickly darted out into the main room, stepping over the figure in the doorway, not caring if it was Lucius or Draco. Sirius was in the middle of a pitched battle against Voldemort and Wormtail. Where was the other Malfoy? Harry heard a noise behind him, and spun around.  
The next few moments seemed to go in slow motion. As Harry turned, the figure must have lunged at him because Harry saw Draco diving towards him, felt a jolt through his left arm and the next thing he knew, Draco's body was impaled upon the sword of Salazar Slytherin held in Harry's left hand. Draco let out a scream of agony, enough to distract the warring parties of Sirius, Voldemort and Wormtail. This moment of distraction proved too long; Sirius cried out and fell to the ground. Harry moved again, yanking the sword free from Draco's body, widening the wound that gaped through the other boy's stomach and out of his back. Draco let out a gurgling cry as he slumped to the floor, blood pouring from his body, an expression of pained surprise on his face.  
"So Harry, it shall be just you and me," said Voldemort. Harry noticed that he was looking strange, his eyes held an expression that he had not seen there before and they were fixed upon the sword.  
"You're afraid," he said, wonder in his voice as he stared down at the blood-drenched sword clutched in his bloody hand. He wiped Draco's blood off onto his robes and hefted the sword.  
"This can hurt you," he said, suddenly realising the power of the weapon he held. "The sword of your ancestor, a man without whom you could not have existed, that can break all of your spells. A blow from this sword would kill you stone dead."  
"Avada Kedavra!" yelled Voldemort. Harry watched the green light flare towards him, lifting the sword in a feeble defence as he dodged. The light hit the blade, burning the blood on it to a black stain and deflecting harmlessly into the wall. Harry snarled an unintelligible challenge and lunged towards Voldemort. Voldemort screamed a curse, but Harry was too quick for him, dodging away yet again, the spell shooting past his ear. He heard Wormtail shout something, spun around to face this new threat, and saw that Wormtail was staring in amazement and horror at a charred stick in his hand.  
"My wand!" he exclaimed in panic. "What's happened to my wand?"  
'Of course! He owes me his life, and so he cannot take mine!' thought Harry. He dived for Voldemort, who was shouting to Wormtail to use Draco's wand. Dropping his wand, he hefted the sword in both hands and swung it at Voldemort, slicing him on the arm. Voldemort screamed, and Harry knew that he was right. With this weapon, Voldemort could be killed. On the floor behind Voldemort, he saw Sirius stir. His heart lifted; his godfather wasn't dead, but Voldemort shouted a curse and Harry was forced to dodge, picking up his wand and sending Voldemort a curse of his own, trying to get close enough to use the sword again. Behind Voldemort, Sirius shouted an arcane word. The room was filled with blue light. Voldemort stumbled, automatically throwing up an arm to shield his eyes. Harry didn't wait for him to recover. He lunged at Voldemort, swinging the sword with little finesse but great determination. He felt the sword connect with the flesh of Voldemort's body, felt the flesh give and the sword slide through. The room swelled, filling with green light which completely obliterated the blue. Voldemort screamed, an anguished scream of pain and despair. Harry held onto the sword tightly, dragging it through the Dark Lord's body, severing bone and muscle. Gouts of blood burst from Voldemort's slender frame but Harry hung on grimly. The green light shone brighter and brighter, the scream rose in pitch until Harry thought he would be both blinded and deafened, until suddenly both the noise and the light stopped. The resistance against the sword was gone, and Harry very nearly fell over. He let his arms fall, but continued to clutch the sword in both hands as he stared at the twisted, blackened body of Voldemort, lying on the floor. This time there could be no argument. The Dark Lord was dead. Wormtail stared at the shrunken corpse of his master in awe.  
"Petrificus Totalus," said Sirius. "Sorry Peter," he said flatly as the small man fell to the floor, "but I want to clear my name, and I don't trust you not to run off again."  
But Harry had stopped listening. Dropping the sword, he moved over to the spot where Draco lay. He knelt beside the boy, reaching out to smooth back the now tousled and bloodstained blond hair. Draco's eyes opened, and Harry stifled a gasp of surprise. He had expected him to be dead, the feeling of Draco's body impacting on the sword was a foggy blur, but he knew that the memory of it would haunt him for the rest of his life. Glancing down at Draco's stomach, he realised that if Draco was alive now, he wouldn't be for much longer. The blood pouring from the stomach wound Harry had inflicted showed that Draco would bleed to death soon. The smell of stomach juices confirmed the truth, that not even magic could save Draco now.  
"Oh Draco, I'm sorry," he said softly. The blond was staring at him, his eyes full of fear and rage.  
"Don't be afraid," said Harry gently. "The pain will stop soon."   
"Don't... want..." rasped Draco hoarsely, a thin trickle of blood sliding down his chin.  
"I still love you," said Harry warmly. "I'll stay with you Draco, until the end."  
"Not...fair..." he croaked.  
"Nothing ever is my love. Nothing ever is." Draco stared at him, eyes full of rage. Harry took his hand, holding it tightly with his left hand and stroking the other boy's hair with his right. Draco shuddered, and Harry felt himself freeze, guessing that this was the end.  
"Not... all... an.. act.." gasped Draco, his eyes suddenly pleading. "Love... you..." He inhaled chokingly, the blood foaming from his lips. "Tried..." he slurred. "Forgive?..." he groaned.  
"I love you Draco," said Harry earnestly. "It wasn't easy for you, and I can forgive you." Draco closed his eyes. His body spasmed, a long-drawn-out rattle came from his throat. When his body relaxed, the hand in Harry's was limp. Draco Malfoy lived no more.  
  
  
Harry gently placed Draco's hand by his side. The blonde's eyes were closed, his face looked peaceful. Harry stood carefully, trying not to disturb him and turned to face Sirius.  
"We'd better contact the Ministry. See if what he said was true."  
Sirius nodded and moved over to the fire. Harry watched dully, keeping an eye on Lucius and Pettigrew, both still held by the full Body-Bind he and Sirius had cast on them. Suddenly there was a pop and Dumbledore appeared, surrounded by high-up military officials. Harry saw Dumbledore glance around the room and flinch, watched the colour drain out of his face. Surprised, he looked around, seeing the room for the first time. The whole place was splattered with blood, both Voldemort's and Draco's. Voldemort's blackened corpse lay on the floor, the carpet around it bloodstained and scorched by the light of the magic released from his frame. The corpse itself was grotesque, a shrivelled hump of hacked flesh and twisted limbs. Draco's body lay at Harry's feet; with a tremor of mingled disgust and shame, Harry realised he was standing in the pool of blood which had seeped from the body. Harry realised that he himself was covered in blood, the robes he had worn when he left the Weasleys were pasted to his body, his glasses were spattered with blood and he could hardly see through them.  
"I'm sorry," he said softly.  
Ministry officials hurried to Lucius and Peter, freeing them from the spell that bound them and motioning them to their feet. Wormtail stared at the floor, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. Lucius's eyes were fixed on the body of his son.   
"We'll need a statement." said one of the officials gruffly. "We'll take these two now and come back for the... others later."  
"I'll handle it," said Dumbledore calmly. The official nodded.  
"We trust you sir." he said, before he apparated away, leaving Harry, Sirius and Dumbledore alone.  
"Perhaps you'd better explain," said Dumbledore.  
  
***   
  
That evening, Harry sat at the table, holding a mug of now-cold hot chocolate in his hands.  
"You're supposed to drink it, not look at it," said Sirius gently. The room was now mostly back to rights. No one walking through the door for the first time now would guess that only that morning two men had bled to death on this very carpet. Those who had been there before might have noticed that the furniture looked more battered than it had previously, and some of it was broken, but otherwise the ministry wizards had done their clean-up job well and there was no real sign that anything untoward had occurred.  
"I don't want it," said Harry abruptly, pushing it away from him. Sirius regarded him gently.  
"Things pass, Harry," he said softly. "Life will never be the same, but there will be a time when this pain isn't as bad."  
"I killed them both," said Harry, feeling beginning to seep back into his head, replacing the hollow numbness with a deep, aching despair. "Draco and Ron. He'd told me before that he didn't trust Malfoy, that he thought something was going on, and I didn't believe him and he died!" Harry stared at Sirius. "How can I cope with that?"  
"Harry, I'll be honest here. I don't know. I feel the same about your father. I persuaded him to use Peter instead of me, remember? I don't know how you cope with it, but I know you can. You are not alone Harry. Even with Ron and Hermione gone, there are still people who care about you. I will help you in any way I can. So will Dumbledore, so will Hagrid, so will the Weasleys."  
"But I killed their son!" interrupted Harry. "How can they forgive me for that?"  
"You didn't kill him, Draco did. Sure, perhaps he wouldn't have died then if you hadn't been dating Draco, but he might have died later. Without Voldemort's plan to ensnare you through Draco, he would have attacked you in another way, perhaps through Ron. You can't know what would have happened if things had been different."  
Harry nodded, feigning acceptance of his godfather's words, but inside he felt nothing of the kind. 'I should have done something' he thought. ' There must have been some way of knowing, there must have been another choice I could have made,'   
"Can you imagine your past without Draco?" asked Sirius softly. Harry looked at him in shock, and Sirius grinned sadly. "Best get some sleep Harry. We've got the rest of your life to discuss the what-ifs. Sleep is what you need now."  
"Goodnight Sirius," said Harry, standing up from his seat at the table and making his way to his room. "Thanks,"  
"Well, what am I here for?" asked Sirius jokingly. He got up from the table and ruffled Harry's hair as he walked past. Harry gave him a weak smile and went into his room. He didn't bother to turn on the light, but instead walked over to the mirror standing on the desk. It wasn't as elaborate as the mirror he'd given Draco, but it showed him a reflection, and that was all it needed to do. His face looked strange somehow. In one way there was nothing he could put his finger on, no one thing he could point to and say 'This is what the last two days has done to me.' Apart from the huge bruise on his chin, a bruise which would fade with time, the face staring back was still the same as it had been when he had first arrived at the flat the day before, the same face that had stared back from the bathroom mirror at the Dursleys. But in another way he was completely changed. His eyes shone a vivid, eerie green, the bruise on his jaw adding to the effect this created to emphasis the exception pallor of his skin. His hair, limp and lifeless, tangled before his eyes. Through his glasses, Harry could see that his eyes held a haunted, hunted look that made him look much older than his recently-gained eighteen years. With a snarl he turned away from the mirror and threw himself face-down on the bed. Draco's face floated before him, the rage in his eyes when he had realised that he was going to die. He stared at the picture in his mind, wishing that there was something he could do. Gradually, Draco's face altered itself so that it was Ron staring at him, the hurt look in his eyes cutting Harry to the bone. 'I'm sorry,' he thought desperately, before beginning to cry, silently at first but then louder as the realisation of the events of the last few days, the last few years, began to hit him.  
When he had cried himself out, Harry rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling, remembering the events of the last few years and wondering what he should do next.  
  
  
  
Last part coming soon! Thank you so much to all the reviewers - I feel really loved! Sorry to those of you who asked for a happy ending though! Please review this part as nicely as you reviewed the last one! 


	8. Epilogue

Epilogue  
  
  
Dear Mr and Mrs Weasley,  
  
I am writing to apologise for my actions with regard to your son Ron. When we were told Hermione was dying, we both looked for comfort in different places. I began a relationship with Draco Malfoy, a relationship of which Ron strongly disapproved. I disregarded his suspicions, and we argued. Ron managed to find a letter that he felt proved that Draco was using me, but wanted to be sure he wasn't arriving at conclusions too hastily and allowing his own dislike for Draco to prejudice him. He did not mention the letter to me, but told Draco secretly. He arranged to meet Draco at the top of the main stairs at two in the morning, bringing the letter with him, so that Draco could explain. Draco used the Imperious Curse on him and made Ron hang himself so that I would not be aware of his treachery. The only reason I am now aware of his part (and so my part) in Ron's death is that while I was here in the summer I stole Ron's diaries from his trunk and read his account of the events. The Ministry have the diaries now as they are evidence of a murder, but they will be sent to you when the Ministry release them.   
  
I know that being sorry isn't good enough, but it's the best I can do. I should have listened to Ron, but I didn't believe what he tried to tell me, and he paid the price. Your son was good and brave, and I hope this information allows you to remember him with less pain, as you were in no way to blame for his death.  
Yours sincerely  
Harry Potter  
  
  
Harry re-read the letter, trying to see if he'd left anything out. The basic details of his defeat of Voldemort were common knowledge, even just two days after the attack, but Harry wanted to make sure that the Weasleys knew what had really happened to Ron before they found out another way. He owed Ron that much, and Ginny too for that matter. He tied the letter to Hedwig's leg, hoping she'd deliver it safely. The press were even at that moment camped outside. Everyone wanted to get the first interview with The Boy Who Lived, everyone wanted to know why he had been attacked in his own home and how exactly Harry had come to possess the sword of Salazar Slytherin. Harry didn't want to tell them. He didn't know what he could say that would let them know the details they wanted without revealing his affair with Draco. The sword itself had been taken away by the Ministry, and Dumbledore had told him that it would end up in a museum eventually, along with the sword which had once belonged to Godric Gryffindor. Everything seemed to be settled, no loose ends to tie up, no unfinished business. Everyone could carry on. But Harry wasn't quite sure how to carry on any more. The sudden end to his relationship with Draco seemed unreal. He couldn't quite believe that he was dead, that they would never have spent their lives together. He kept waiting for him to walk in and give him the special smile reserved only for him. Draco's death had destroyed all of Harry's dreams, throwing his plans into disarray. It seemed silly to train as an Auror now. Harry had seen far too much death at close quarters to ever want to kill again. But he didn't have any other ideas either. The last two days had been a blur, but Harry could think of nothing more to do, now this letter had been sent. Three weeks later and he was still just drifting from day to day, making no attempt to organise himself or even think about what to do now. Sirius seemed to accept that Harry didn't know what to do. He treated Harry in exactly the same way as before, talking to him about everyday things when Harry wanted to chat, giving him space when he needed it. Harry felt numb, but he also felt that it was just a question of waiting. If he could get through each day as it came, one day he'd think of something he wanted to do.  
  
  
Two years later  
  
Harry lay on his stomach on the grass, watching a family on the other side of the park having a picnic. One was a little boy with blond hair, he was screaming with laughter as his dad tickled his stomach.  
"Harry?" asked Ginny curiously.  
"Hmm?" he said, still watching the child.  
"Why did you never tell me about Draco?"  
Harry rolled over and sat up to look at her.  
"Because I thought his father would kill him if he knew, and I didn't want him dead. I also didn't want you to hate me."  
"I would have understood," said Ginny. The sunlight in Harry's eyes made him unable to see her face clearly, but he could hear the hurt in her voice.  
"I know, but..." he said, even two years later unable to explain his feelings.  
"You're my friend, after Ron died one of my closest friends. I didn't want to lose you. I still don't."  
"You won't," said Ginny with certainty. "We'll always be friends Harry."  
"I know," he said thankfully. "Travel through life side by side and so on."  
"Not literally though, since you're going to France next week, but in theory." said Ginny, laughing slightly to try and dispel the sombre mood. Harry laughed obligingly and rolled back onto his stomach. The child was now eating a sandwich, getting crumbs all down his front.  
"I've got to go, I'm meeting Dan in an hour." said Ginny cheerfully, getting to her feet.   
"I'll phone you later." said Harry easily. "I'd better get going myself - lots to do."  
The two walked companionably to the gate.  
"Give Dan a kiss for me," said Harry with a laugh.  
"Hands off my boyfriend!" said Ginny, giving him a playful shove.  
"You think he'd be interested?" asked Harry teasingly.  
"No, and he's mine!"  
"No fair," pouted Harry, taking their usual game to its usual end.  
"Bye," laughed Ginny. Harry stood and watched her go, a tall girl with striking red hair, silhouetted in the sunlight. Then he shrugged and turned away. He'd phone her later after all, and he did have lots to do. The future looked bright for Harry Potter.  
But before walking away, he looked back at the happy family with the blond child, not seeing them at all but instead a long ago meeting by a lake, and the feel of warm arms around him.   
  
The End  
  
There you go, a sort of happy ending for you! Please review, and anyone who wants to put this on their favourite stories will quite probably be worshipped for ever! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the other parts, and I'd love to get 150 reviews for Christmas! Anyone who wants to check out my fic about Narcissa (Black Eyes, Blue Tears, vaguely based around the Shania Twain song) in which she gets pregnant with a baby Lucius doesn't want is more than welcome, as no-one's read that for ages.  
Harry Christmas everyone! 


	9. Edited Scene Draco's letter

By the Black Goddess

Disclaimer: None of it's mine, I make no money, don't sue. I think that covers everything!

I thought about posting this for quite a while, but I've decided that it does add something to the original so thought I'd go ahead. This letter is written just before the final showdown at Harry's apartment and _Harry never sees it._ This letter is completely separate from the rest of the fic; I just wanted to post it to add more depth to Draco's persona and because this is something that interests me. With that in mind, read on!

Dear Harry,

What else did you expect from me? You knew who I was right from the beginning, you must have known what would happen, how things would be. I'm sorry I did what I did, but did I really have a choice? You don't know what things are like for me, you never had to make the choices I had to make, knowing as I did what hung in the balance.

I remember when my brother was alive, all those years ago, playing by the lake. I watched him die. My big brother, the only person who seemed to care about me, drowned in front of my eyes and I was too weak and small and stupid to save him. I swore I'd never be weak again that night, my whole body sore with crying for my brother. From now on I'd be in control. That day the weight of my father's ambitions came to rest on my shoulders, a weight made heavier by the fact that I was the weakling who'd let his true heir drown. This could have worked, but being my father's only son I am obliged to uphold the family name and be a good son. I want my father to be proud of me I suppose. I fear him, sometimes hate him with every fibre of my being for the things he makes me do, but I want him to love me. Why is that so wrong?

You came very close to seeing what was inside, who I truly am, but with the skill of all humans everywhere you ignored it, or pretended I'd changed. I can't believe you thought I had really changed. Maybe that naivety is what I love about you.

Yes, I said love. Because I do love you Harry Potter. Despite what I've done, despite the fact that our relationship is founded on lies and you don't know it, I love you. It hasn't all been an act. I will miss you as you would miss me. But you won't survive this time - as soon as we can come for you we will, and four against two doesn't work I'm afraid.

You know I've been learning the Dark Arts. You knew I would probably be initiated into the ranks of the Death Eaters as soon as I left school. What were you hoping for? Happy ever after? That was never possible, and you must have known it. Did you think that we could have been together forever, soul-mates or any of that romantic crap? A Death Eater and the Boy Who Lived? If we won, you'd die, and if you won, I'd either die or be imprisoned for years. How does our relationship work then? But we're going to win and you're going to die. The thought brings me no pleasure, but it's how it has to be.

I'm sorry Harry. I don't know why I'm writing this - a letter you will never read, but I suppose I want to explain. We leave in ten minutes, on our way to power and glory. Your death is just an aside - you can't help being who you are, as I can't. Draco Malfoy, son and heir of Lucius Malfoy. I will be strong. I will make my father proud of me. Then he will look at me, just once, without that 'I wish you were your brother.' sneer in his eyes, that constant reminder that I was the small one, the weak one, the runt. My father will be proud that I succeeded so well in my task of luring you to the Dark Lord and I watched you die without remorse. You are dying for me my love, your death will give me strength and my father will love me.

I will cry for you when no-one's watching, 

Goodbye Harry,

Love from Draco


End file.
